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shina913 · 2 years

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Sunshine (A Scions Story) | JHS

✼Scions Masterlist✼

Pairing: JHS x Fem!Reader; Fem!Reader Sister + Kim Brothers

Rating: M (🔞)

Genre: Friends to lovers; idiots to lovers; Sibling’s best friend; KimSiblings!AU; drama; some humor angst; smut; fluff

Warnings: ANGST!!!; DRAMA!!!; sibling bickering; small-town setting; overprotective/overbearing older sibling; lots of crying; vulnerable confessions; cussing; pining; unrequited love; emotional outbursts; oral (mutual); fingering; dirty-talk; breast/nipple play; unprotected sex in a committed, monogamous relationship; ANGST (yep, as if the first mention of it wasn’t enough of a warning)

Word count: 15,280 words

Summary: A look back at how things between you and Hoseok came to be.

A/N: This is a companion chapter to Scions. You could read the published chapters for context but I think that this story can stand alone. I’ve hinted at this relationship a bunch and thought that rather than inserting a bunch of long-ass flashbacks in my main chapters, I would just write a one-off for these two. And I have to say, I was in love with this story so much that I decided to sprinkle in some of my favorite “sibling’s best friend” scenes from popular movies and TV shows. I hope you’ll enjoy those!

AN/2: A bunch of huge time jumps occur throughout this chapter so hopefully it’s not too jarring. I tried to add dividers where applicable. And lastly, thank you to my loves, @internetjunkdrawer and @deepseavibez for getting through this monster chapter and being so encouraging and sharing my enthusiasm for this story! ILY!

Whenever your mom was on break from filming, she would be up early to make you all breakfast, pack your lunches, and drop you all off at school.

One particular day was special. Not only were you expecting your results from the grade acceleration aptitude test that you took to determine whether you can jump from the 2nd grade into the 3rd grade classes with Namjoon; but it was also picture day.

She excitedly put your hair up in a pair of braids, tying little red bows at the ends. You felt really pretty that day.

Taehyung waved goodbye to you and Namjoon before turning to Hoseok, who was already there when you arrived with your siblings. You normally carpooled with him and his mom.

“Buh-bye, Hobi-hyung!” He had trouble saying ‘Hoseokie-hyung’ when he was smaller so ‘Hobi’ was the next best thing. It just stuck.

Jin took your little brother’s hand and walked him to his Kindergarten classroom.

The three of you remained right outside the second and third grade classrooms, waiting for the bell to ring.

Hobi waved ‘hi’ to Namjoon, then he turned to greet you.

“Nice hair,” he remarked.

Before you could answer, Namjoon interjects with a frown. “Ugh. My mom put hair gel on it then brushed it back this morning. I hate it,” he mumbled while scratching his head.

Hobi chewed at his bottom lip and cringed, his eyes shifting from Namjoon to you.

You giggled at your brother. “I think he meant me, dummy!”

“Oh,” Namjoon says, affronted.

“Your hair looks like that character in that book–Little Miss Sunshine!” Hobi smiled.

Namjoon snickered at that. He thought of a big, round ball with braids and tiny hands covering its big mouth.

You felt insecure for a second–wondering if Hobi meant it as a backhanded compliment or–

“I think you look pretty.” Hobi immediately says with a sincere smile, making Namjoon shut up.

Your cheeks flushed, making you shyly fidget with the ends of one of your braids. “T-thanks, Hobi.”

Namjoon’s face soured. “Eeew, do you like her or something?”

Hobi’s eyes widened in a panic, but before he could answer, the bell rang, much to his relief. He and Namjoon walk towards their classroom while you walk across the hall into yours. Before you walk in, you look back and find him giving you a shy smile before he disappears inside.

Hobi steps out of Namjoon’s room for a bathroom break while his friend organizes his Pokémon cards in his binder. Heading down the hallway, he pauses when he catches sight of you as he passes the window–your little spot on the roof.

He walks towards the window, sticks his head out and calls out to you. “Hey, sunshine!”

“Hey, Hobi.” You turned around and greeted him, the sound of him saying his pet-name for you made your heart swell.

“What are you doing out here?” He asks, wearing that same shy smile from years ago.

You chuckle at him. “Nothing. Just…looking up at the stars.”

He laughs. “The stars, huh?”

“Yeah.”

He hums then leans on the window sill. “Need some company?”

Deep down, you’d love for him to sit next to you. You weren’t exactly sure what it was but you always felt safe around Hobi. And… as if you didn’t have more than enough of them, he was like a brother to you.

“Aren’t you and Joon supposed to be playing Xbox or sorting out your Pokémon cards?”

He gives you a half-smile then shrugs. “He’s a little preoccupied with the handbook–trying to organize his cards and figuring out which ones he still needs…which means that I don’t think he’s noticed that I’ve left the room,” he laughs. “I can spend a few minutes with you, though. I mean, if you want?”

“Are you sure?” You knew that he had a fear of heights–you found that out when your family took him to the amusement park recently. It was on one of your vacations while your mom was back in town. With that in mind, you found it strange that he would offer to sit next to you–on the roof.

“Yeah. I-it’s fine,” he tries to sound casual.

“Alright then. Be my guest!” You relented.

He carefully climbs out of the window sill and steps onto the roof tiles. You feel the surface shake a little and his breathing turns a bit uneven after he settles next to you.

You kept your eyes straight up on the night sky, affording him some privacy as he gathered himself, but you were still hyper-aware of his presence. He takes a few deep, shaky breaths to calm himself.

You turned your head to him and smiled. “Are you okay?” You were concerned about him passing out from fear.

He grinned uncomfortably. “Of course,” he says almost immediately. Desperate for a distraction, he cleared his throat. “So…do you do this often?”

“Sometimes,” you say with a hint of nonchalance. Honestly, you did this a lot. Being a teenager had its ups and downs. Having a moment on the rooftop brought some things back into perspective for you.

“I heard your mom’s show got picked up for a full season?”

You nodded wistfully. “Yeah, it’s good. Hopefully that would make her filming schedules more predictable than a movie.”

“That’s cool. Maybe she’ll be home more?”

“I hope so...unless her agent books another project for her,” you sighed heavily, hugging your knees to your chest. “I miss her a lot.”

“I’m sure you do,” he says sympathetically.

You really did miss her…more than usual.

“Yah! There you are! I thought you got lost on the way to the bathroom or something,” Namjoon says.

“Oh…I thought YN could use some company.”

“Oof, better watch yourself, Hobi. You don’t want to make Austin Cheng jealous,” he teases you.

When your mom called yesterday, you dragged the phone all the way back into your room after she spoke to your brothers. You warned them not to pick up the extension.

Once you had a private moment, you told her about a boy you’d been crushing on at school. When she asked who it was, you stopped short because you heard a crackling sound on the other end–a sign that someone–most likely Taehyung–picked up the extension to listen in, so you had to think fast.

Austin wasn’t bad. He was nice; one of those ‘math-letes.’ While most people would think that translates to ‘giant nerd’ it actually meant that he not only excelled in academics but he was an amazing athlete as well.

“Austin Cheng?” Hobi repeats while he eyed you curiously.

“Yeah! It’s why she’s been acting all weird since we got back from our vacation!” Namjoon adds.

But Austin wasn’t really the reason you were acting all stupid…it was just the first name you blurted out while on the phone with your mom. And sure, you thought he was cute and he and Namjoon were also good friends, but you didn’t like him-like him.

“Don’t worry, sis. Austin and I are cool. Although…his personality is a little dry,” he adds flatly. “Anyway, we’ll make sure that he doesn’t try anything crazy on you. Won’t we, Hobi?” He looks to his best friend for support.

“Uh…I…I guess?” Hobi answers slowly, still looking confused.

“Cool! Now that we have that settled, I’ve got the game all set up! You ready?” Namjoon asks Hobi.

“Y-yeah, sure,” he says to Namjoon before turning his attention back to you. “Are you gonna be okay out here?”

“I’ll be fine, Hobi. Have a good night,” you say to him as he steps back into the house. He gives you one final look, his expression was unreadable.

“Good night, YN.”

******

The truth was, since returning from that amusement park trip, you started to look at Hobi… differently. Before that, you have never spent that much time with him…alone.

While your brothers thoroughly enjoyed themselves going on marathon rides, you could tell that Hobi went gray every time he watched them zoom by while he waited in line.

You didn’t call him out but told your brothers you’d sit out the rest of the big rides, pretending to get a headache from all the whiplash. In reality, you felt bad that he had to put on a brave face for Namjoon when all he really wanted were his feet firmly planted on solid ground.

Hobi, seizing the opportunity to skip the rest of the rollercoasters, said that he didn’t want you wandering around the park by yourself so he volunteered to hang out with you.

It turned out to be one of the best days ever. You ate churros, beignets, then went on an astro-blaster adventure, and rode the same teacup ride over and over.

It was so amazing that you decided to fake a neck injury the following day so you could do all of the same things with him again. You stood in line for all of the ‘gentler’ rides, talking and laughing about the most random things. You shared more overpriced snacks together while you strolled around the park. Then when night fell, you stood elbow-to-elbow with him while you watched the fireworks and fountain shows right before closing time.

Something had shifted then because you started to feel awkward around him when you got back. Whether it was at his house or when you carpooled; or when he approached you during lunch–which was something he did on a regular basis–your heart rate picked up and your cheeks would feel flushed.

It felt like torture! The thought of describing it that way sounded dramatic, but as a teen, most things and feelings were described in superlatives.

When Namjoon noticed, you tried to play it cool and dismissed it as typical girl-stuff, which made him back off immediately. You didn’t want to make a big fuss over it. This was Jung Hoseok, for crying out loud! Your next door neighbor whom you’ve known since you were in preschool. The same Hobi you went on family vacations with and would sleep over on a regular basis especially after hours of gaming and watching sci-fi movies.

More importantly, he was also your brother’s best friend!

Your ‘weird’ feelings didn’t seem to affect him. He would still hang out at your house and often sleep over during the weekend. At that point, seeing his face became too much for you that you began to hide in your room to avoid any uncomfortable run-ins when he was at your house.

Once, you made your way into the bathroom to brush your teeth, unaware that it was occupied since the door was cracked open. And then you saw him.

You mumbled some form of apology trying to back away while saying you’d wait until he was done brushing his teeth. You forgot that he and Namjoon were pulling an all-nighter. But instead of letting you leave, he stopped you and mentioned that he could always make room for you by the sink. He also said that it was better for the planet if you just brushed your teeth together.

“You know, I hold my breath for 10 seconds every day to help decrease carbon emissions.”

His comment made you snort and diffused the tension considerably. But because he said it so earnestly, you relented, in an effort to keep things ‘normal’ between you two.

It didn’t take long for you to realize that being trapped in a small space with him was a huge mistake. Every time you glanced up at the mirror, you’d catch him staring at your reflection before he immediately averted his eyes, pretending not to look.

You both carried on like this for what felt like hours…even though it had only been about a minute. You rushed through flossing and blindly dabbed your mouth with a towel so you could scurry back to your room.

But he tugs at your wrist. “Hang on, you missed a spot,” he points out. Before you could figure out what he was talking about, his thumb gently swipes at some leftover toothpaste from the corner of your mouth.

Nervously, you murmured something unintelligible and made a hasty exit to run back into your bedroom, leaving him utterly confused.

******

Somehow this “fake-crush” reveal has thrown off Namjoon’s curiosity, much to your relief. He’s always been persistent

Weeks later, it was Homecoming at school and you wanted to make an effort to get dolled up and look a bit different.

Okay, maybe not exactly different, but more like–a better version of yourself?

“YN! Hurry up!” Namjoon bellows from the bottom of the stairs.

“Geez, okay. I’m coming!” You growled from your room.

Namjoon has been extra “big brother-y” since Jin had gone away to college. He had taken it upon himself to keep you and Taehyung in line.

“Girl, quit fussing!” Naya says as she swats your hand away from your hair, tucking one final bobby pin into your head and smoothing wayward strands with the tip of a rattail comb.

You groan at yourself but give her a grateful, appreciative look. You desperately needed help with your hair tonight and Naya has been offering to give you a mini-makeover for years! She let out a deafening squeal of elation when you finally asked her.

Naya steps back and gives you a once-over. “You look amazing! I really outdid myself!”

You rolled your eyes and laughed. But you had to admit, you looked better than usual. You wouldn’t have been able to manage this on your own. Naya even helped you pick out the perfect dress and shoes, which your mom happily sent money for.

You stood up and looked at yourself in front of your full-length mirror.

It was a floral print, knee-length, spaghetti-strap dress with a tasteful V-neckline. Cute, by your standards. More importantly, you didn’t look like you were trying too hard.

“You look so much like your mom!” She cocked her head to the side and smiled at your reflection dreamily.

Naya would never blow smoke up your ass. She was a great friend.

“Thank you,” you smiled back at her before you distantly heard Namjoon yelling your name again. “Now let’s go before Namjoon’s face melts off.”

You carefully take steps down the stairs in your chunky-heeled booties–which were a sensible two-and-a-half inches high cute but still comfy, as Naya pointed out at the store.

As soon as you reach the bottom of the steps, Hobi coincidentally walks out of the kitchen and into the foyer to grab his car keys by the doorway.

“Hi!” you beamed at him.

At the sound of your voice his head turns in your direction. His mouth falls slightly open at the sight of you. He blinked a few times and stuttered. “Uh…H-hi. W-wow…”

Just then, Taehyung and Jimin walk out from the living room and stop by the bottom of the stairs.

“Oh, you look pretty, noona,” Jimin remarked with a smile, which made Taehyung’s head whip around at his friend. “Bro, calm down! She’s my sister!”

“I didn’t think there was anything wrong with what I said,” Jimin counters. His eyes drift to Hobi, who looks to be stunned, still staring at you. He nudges Taehyung gently and jerks his chin towards Hobi’s direction.

Taehyung stifles a grin. “Hyungie, are you okay?” he asks with a soft chuckle.

Hobi snaps out of it, his eyes wide and flicking back and forth between you and Jimin and Taehyung. “Uh…s-sorry,” he stammered before shifting his attention back to you. “Uhm, y-you look…”

You nervously anticipate his remark until…

“Holy hell! What took you so long?” Namjoon grumbled as he came from the kitchen, with his eyes wide at you.

“Just wanted to look cute!” You snarked while Naya giggled behind you.

“For whom?” He countered.

You shrugged your shoulders, playing innocent, knowing that you’d already achieved the effect that you were going for.

“I think Austin’s definitely going to want to hang out with you tonight,” Naya teases.

After your little white lie about Austin, you decided to strike up a conversation with him to keep the ruse going. As it turns out, his personality wasn’t as ‘dry’ as Namjoon made it out to be. You’ve been talking to him since. And though it wasn’t anything serious, there was still a lot of heavy flirting there–which irked Namjoon.

“Don’t!” Namjoon barked at Naya.

You and Naya scoffed then rolled your eyes at him.

“Why can’t I just look cute for myself? I don’t always have to do things just so a boy can notice me.” Your eyes briefly shift to Hobi, who was still staring at you, before looking back at your brother.

“Hm. Good point,” Namjoon purses his lips. “And for the record, you look beautiful, sis...with or without all that stuff on your face.”

You smiled warmly at your brother. “Thank you, oppa.”

“Agreed,” Jimin adds. “Don’t you think noona looks pretty, Hobi-hyung?” He waggled his eyebrows at him.

“Oh! Uhm…y-yeah...she does,” Hobi says quietly.

Jimin and Taehyung chuckle to themselves.

Namjoon decides to remind everyone of the time. “Alright, alright! We really have to get going. Tae–are you good riding with Jiminie?”

“Yes, hyung.”

“Okay, good. I called dad to let him know we’ll probably be home late. He just told us to have fun and stay safe.”

“It’s a good tip,” Naya comments, winking at you, making you giggle.

Namjoon eyes you and Naya suspiciously. “Just for good measure, we’ll keep an eye on Austin. Right, Hobi?”

Hobi cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah, yeah. F-for sure,” he stuttered.

“Sheesh, calm down, guys. It’s just high school dating,” Naya says in exasperation. “Quit overreacting.“

Taehyung and Jimin look at Hobi, who was uncomfortably rubbing the back of his neck, trying to avoid eye contact.

“Anyway! Ready to go, Hobi?” Namjoon turns to Hobi

“Right…we should go,” Hobi answers hurriedly and proceeds to walk out the door, clutching his keys while the rest of you follow. Namjoon switches the porchlight on before locking the front door.

******

“Uggghhh,” Namjoon turned away growling after seeing you and Austin giggling and whispering into each other’s ears from a distance.

“She’s doing that on purpose because she knows I’m here and I can see them. C’mon, Hobi, switch spots with me!” Namjoon tries to pull Hobi to where he was standing so he wouldn’t have to have a clear line of sight to you and Austin.

Hobi pushes him off and stays in place. “Hell no, man! What makes you think that I want to see that?”

Namjoon’s eyebrows furrowed. “What? It’s not like she’s your sister.”

Hobi scrambles for a valid excuse. “I know that! I–I’m just saying…I don’t want–”

Namjoon interjects. “What do you think Austin sees in her?”

“You’re asking me?” Hobi asks incredulously.

“Yeah.”

Hobi chuckles nervously. “I mean…I don’t know. The better question is, what does she see in him?”

“Well…” Namjoon begins, “He’s smart, plays three sports competitively, speaks four languages, and pretty much has a clear path to any ivy league school in the country. What’s not to like?”

Hobi scoffed in annoyance. “Sounds like you might be interested in him, too?”

Namjoon laughed. “I’m simply stating facts. Logic allows me to look past extraneous details.”

“You just called him a ‘cocky bastard’ the other day,” Hobi deadpanned.

“That’s because I was having a rough morning with college applications and student council stuff...” Then he cleared his throat. “Besides, he had his hands all over my sister during lunch! Hating on the guy she sucks face with is pretty much a natural reaction.”

“I guess that’s valid.” Hobi slowly mumbles as he sips on some punch, wishing that Jimin had gone through with his plan to spike it with alcohol–before Namjoon stopped him.

“But seriously, though. What do you think he sees in her?” Namjoon decides to reiterate his question directly at Hobi.

Hobi sighs uncomfortably, finally turning around to see you and Austin laughing about something.

Then he takes a good look at you, warmth blooming within his chest. “She’s nice. Smart. She’s got a wicked sense of humor. And she’s pretty.”

Namjoon latches onto those last words. “Pretty?” he repeated.

Hobi paused to clear his throat, suddenly remembering who he was talking to. “Y-yeah. You know, she’s not bad looking.”

“Not bad looking?” Namjoon echoed with a slight chuckle.

“What can I say? Your family has good genes,” Hobi says scrambled. “She’s got nice skin!”

“Skin?” Namjoon echoed. “You think Austin is dating my sister because she has ‘nice skin’?”

Hobi realizes that he’s dug himself into a hole that he can’t get out of. He turns to face the opposite way and internally panics. “I-I’m just saying, you know, it could be a contributing factor.”

“Huh.” Namjoon cocked his head sideways. “Do you think YN has nice skin?”

“I mean…” Hobi let out a nervous laugh, “You say it as if I think about it a lot–which–I do not, for the record,” he says defensively.

Namjoon laughs out loud and smacks his friend’s back. “Chill out, dude! We’re just talking here.”

“I know that,” Hobi grimaces. “I’m totally cool!” He turns around again to see you wrapped in Austin’s arms.

******

Hobi walks out of his class with his algebra tutor, Dara, hot on his heels.

“Hoseokie!”

He turns around as she catches up to him. “What’s up?”

Dara had been extra friendly in the last few weeks. She felt all giddy when he asked if she could help him out some days after school with algebra.

“Was there something that we forgot to cover earlier?”

She was sweet, but he wasn’t really interested in her in that way.

“Oh no, it’s not that,” she says shyly. “I was wondering if we could hang out…uhm…” He barely registers what she says because his eyes focus at the end of the hallway where you and Austin were talking. He could see that you were upset. You were gesturing aimlessly with your hands while Austin stood there, mumbling something that made you shut your eyes and pinch the bridge of your nose.

Moments later, he sees Austin exhale, shake his head briefly before walking away from you.

“Hoseok?” Dara murmured, trying to get his attention back.

“Uh, Dara–c-can you hold that thought? I just need to check on somebody…” he trailed off before making a beeline for you.

“Hey, YN–are you okay?”

You look up to find Hobi standing in front of you in a protective stance. “I’m-I’m good.” You mustered a smile, sniffled, and wiped tears away.

“You don’t look like it.”

Your lower lip quivers, as you try your best not to completely break down in front of him.

“Is there anything I can do?” He asked softly.

“C-can you please take me home?” You whispered.

“Of course. I’ll text Namjoon. I’ll let him know that I can circle back to pick him and Taehyungie up later.”

Shit. You forgot about Namjoon. “No, Hobi…that’s okay. I’ll uhm…I’ll ask Naya to–”

“Hey–it’s fine. I’ll take you home. Don’t think anything of it!”

******

You whimpered quietly on the ride home. Hobi didn’t force you to talk about it, and frankly, you didn’t want to hash it all out–especially with him.

Austin’s been insanely busy with his college applications and campus tours. He’s also been in an intensive training program for his violin lessons as he was planning to double-major in music and engineering.

He didn’t have much of a choice since his parents wanted him to attend the best university in the country. It wasn’t like he had to try that hard…but it was still putting a strain in your relationship. It was fun for the first couple weeks until his schedule was packed and you saw less of each other.

Even though you didn’t tell Hobi that, Namjoon had mentioned it to him in passing since he noticed that you weren’t on the phone with Austin as much in recent days. Your sour mood was also a good indicator.

You vaguely hear Hobi angrily muttering under his breath.

“You know what? If I was him, I would have made time for you. In fact, I would always make time for you. If I was him, I’d be like—screw violin classes, I’d rather go see that new Marvel movie with my girlfriend!”

You sniffled, holding your tongue while you listened to him ramble on until he pulled up in front of your house.

“There’s so much more to life than trying to get into a top university. I mean…shit, we’re in high school! If I was him, I’d be enjoying whatever’s left of my childhood. Maybe fall in love with the girl next door or…” he stops short.

Latching onto his last words, you turn your head to him.

His eyes widened and he immediately switched tact. “I’m just saying that, if I were in his place—“

Exasperated and tired, you snapped. “You know, if you wanted to be in his place, then you should have just done that to begin with!”

His brows furrowed in shock. “YN…wh…I-I…” he stumbles on his words.

You cut him off. “A girl can only wait for so long, Jung Hoseok!” You nearly take the car door off its hinges, practically kicking it open then slamming it shut as hard as you could before storming off into your house.

Utterly dumbfounded, Hobi stares wide-eyed at the empty walkway to your front door, wondering what the hell all that was about.

This was the first time you ever lashed out on him. You always got along well and never bickered like you did with your brothers. He wasn’t exactly sure of what he did to be on the receiving end of your ire but he knew that he couldn’t settle until he made things right with you.

******

Hobi walks out of his house to take out the trash when he sees you sitting on the rooftop while you read a book.

He walked across the street and stopped right below where you sat and called out to you.

“Hey. Can we talk?”

You lower your book and look down towards where he stood. “What for?”

“I…I just wanted to…fix whatever I messed up today. It’s been bugging me all afternoon.”

You let out a huff.

“Are you mad at me?” He wondered out loud.

You sighed heavily. “It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it,” you say dismissively before raising the book to your eyes again–trying to hide the embarrassment in your face.

He scoffed. “C’mon, YN. We’ve never fought like that. Or…” he stopped to think, “I don’t know. Was it a fight? I’m not really sure.”

“It’s okay, Hobi. We’re fine! Just forget what I said!” You say evenly, still hiding your face.

He didn’t answer after a few beats of silence, you hoped he would just go back inside his house and forget you ever sort-of confessed that you liked him.

Next thing you knew, you heard a rustling by the side of your house–it was Hobi climbing up to the roof using the trellis and drain pipe.

“Oh my god! What do you think you’re doing?” You gasped, scared the pipe might break off and he’d fall and seriously injure himself.

“We’re going to talk, if it’s the last thing I do!” He heaves himself up on the roof, almost forgetting about his acro- and basophobia.

“Hobi, there’s nothing to talk about–”

“Why did you say what you said to me earlier?” He asks calmly while he sits next to you.

You play dumb. “Say what?”

“You know what I’m talking about,” he says firmly, keeping his eyes on you.

You look away from him, feeling flustered. “It was nothing. I was just pissed at Austin, that’s all.”

“If it’s nothing, then why can’t you look at me when you say it.”

“I just…” you sighed in frustration before turning your attention back to him. ”I–”

His face was close to yours–too close. It made your pulse race. Your mouth went dry and breathing was ragged.

“You just–what?”

You tried to form words in your brain but they just wouldn’t come out. All your sass out the window. But you hang onto your last shred of self-preservation. You scoffed, shaking your head. “It’s nothing, Hobi. It’s stupid. Can we just drop it? I’m sorry I flipped out on you,” you mumbled, while your head hung low.

He groans, running his fingers through his hair in exasperation. He bends his knees and rests his elbows on them.

“Want to hear something stupid?”

You turned your head to regard him quietly.

“When you said that you liked Austin…I…” He chuckles, “My first thought was: this is someone who deserves to be with YN. He’s athletic, ivy league-bound, his parents are rich…I can totally see the appeal.”

You stared at him while he kept his head down, picking at some roof tile whose edge was sticking out a bit.

“Then I thought…” He sighed, “There’s no way I’d ever be able to stand up to that.”

You gasped softly. Did you hear him right?

He peered up carefully at you. “I’m just the kid next door,” he shrugged.

You both silently stared at each other.

“Hobi…”

“Funny how things shift after you’ve been rescued from crazy-ass amusement park rides,” he said quietly.

Your eyebrows knitted, then seconds later, your mouth falls open at his confession.

He scoffed and smiled at you. “I did say you were going to hear something stupid, right?”

“W-why didn’t you say anything?”

“I just didn’t want to be the brother’s weirdo best friend trying to sabotage his sister’s relationship,” he uttered.

His eyes turned downcast. “I mean…what did I have to offer anyway?” He continued, ignoring your question. “We’ve known each other for…ages! We grew up together. You’ve seen snot dripping out of my nose and watched me do pretty stupid shit,” he laughed wryly.

“Everything about me just screams perpetual friend-zone.” He then looked up at you, his eyes meeting yours again. It made your heart crumble that you both had felt the same way about each other the whole time and were both afraid to tell the other how they felt.

You chewed at your bottom lip before speaking. “Hobi, I love that we’re great friends and the fact that we grew up together…it means I know you inside-out. I know that you’re loyal and trustworthy. And…” You sighed, trying to calm your heart beating out of your ears. “I wish that I hadn’t been an idiot and just told you that I liked you, too.”

He chuckled. “Don’t mess with me! I’m already freaking out at how high up we are and that I could slide off your roof any second!”

You laughed. “I’m not! I…thought it was just some stupid crush at first and that I’d get over it but…I really like you. I just had no idea if you felt…the same.”

“Guess we’re both idiots, huh,” he says outright with a grin.

You laughed together.

Once he calms down, he reaches up to touch your cheek. The small gesture sends a warm feeling coursing through your chest. “I hate that he made you cry.”

You scoffed, shaking your head, eyes flicking downward.

But he tilts your chin up so you could meet his eyes. “That won’t happen under my watch,” he says earnestly.

You stared at each other for what felt like ages. You’d known each other for so long; seen each other in their worst, ugliest, most embarrassing moments that you would relentlessly tease each other about. And yet, at this point in time, you both found those to be the most endearing thing; realizing that there wasn’t anything that neither of you could hide from each other. There was nobody around here that needed to be impressed.

“Are you going to kiss me now, Hoseok?” You ask impatiently.

He narrowed his eyes, feigning annoyance all while trying to stifle a smile. “Can you not mess up my game right now?”

You rolled your eyes and groaned at him. “Who’s playing games? Just shut up and ki–”

And he sure did.

Although this was the first time you had kissed him, it felt oddly familiar. It was as if your lips were perfectly molded to his; as if you’d always been meant to kiss them. Your belly fluttered and your heartbeat thrummed in near-perfect synchronicity to his.

You both smile as you pull away from each other.

“I can’t tell you how long I’ve been wanting to do that,” he says quietly.

You chuckled softly. “Better late than never, right?” He laughs in response. “Aw, man…Namjoonie should find this interesting,” he muses.

You inhale sharply at the mention of your brother’s name. “A-actually…can we not tell Joon first?”

“Huh?”

“I mean…he’s already kind of pissed at Austin and told me that he basically ripped him a new one before leaving school. And he said something about keeping a really close eye on the next guy who tries to get with me,” you grimaced. “I just thought, to be on the safe side…maybe we should wait a bit.”

He cocked an eyebrow at that. After you stormed off this afternoon, Hoseok drove back to school to drive Namjoon and Taehyung home. He didn’t really talk about Austin but he looked visibly irate.

“How long do you think we should wait?” He asks with apprehension.

“A few days maybe? He’s also stressed about student council stuff. I just want to wait until that calms down a bit.”

He’s tentative about it at first since he and Namjoon practically talked about everything. But he thought back to lunchtime when his friend was angrily ranting about one of the student council members for slacking on the job.

“You know what? You’re right. Let’s wait a few days and let’s gauge his mood and we can tell him together?” He suggested.

“Good idea!” You concurred, making him smile again.

“Would it be weird if I kissed you again?”

You giggled. “No, because I was going to ask you the same thing.”

You both laughed then his face softened. He cupped your face and slowly closed in to press another kiss on your lips.

******

You and Hobi tried to be slick about it but your dad knew that something was up. He caught Hobi climbing down from your window one night as he was coming back from the restaurant.

You thought that your dad had turned in for the night when you gave Hobi the all-clear to come hang out. But he suddenly received a security alert on his phone so he had to drive back to the restaurant to make sure that nobody had broken in.

“It’s amazing what a couple days in an amusement park can do,” he commented the next day, while sipping on his coffee.

He wasn’t mad. In fact, he encouraged Hobi to exit the front door next time. You guiltily confessed that you hadn’t told Namjoon yet and since his room was right across from yours, the window guaranteed your secret.

“Princess–give the poor kid a break. He’s terrified of falling!”

“I know that but…I think he’s more afraid of Namjoon finding out?” You countered.

Sighing, your dad offered to prop up his ladder by the side of the house so Hobi wouldn’t have to keep hanging onto the rain gutter for support.

Taehyung, on the other hand, caught both of you stealing kisses in the kitchen during a random movie night with Namjoon.

“Oh, chill out! I saw you guys kiss on the rooftop that night,” Taehyung said nonchalantly while he sipped on his orange soda. Being the youngest had its advantages.

“I think it’s great!” He quipped. Aside from getting away with a few things, he sometimes slipped in and out of the room unnoticed.

“I wouldn’t wait too long to tell Namjoonie-hyung, though,” he remarked ominously before walking away. “He might get upset.”

******

Another day, another morning with Hobi sneaking out of your house. Namjoon went out for an early bike ride that day so Hobi was able to walk out of the front door.

He steps out but turns back around while you hold onto the door jamb. “I’ll call you later?” He whispers.

“Okay,” you smiled dreamily before he pressed a lingering kiss to your lips. Before your kiss gets deeper, you pull away from him. “Better hurry before Joon gets home.”

He gives you one final peck before he crosses the street and back to his house. After one final wave, you shut the door quietly.

“Good morning,” says a deep, mischievous voice.

Your forehead prickles in a panic. You thought that you and Hobi were completely alone and up before anybody else in this house. You whip your head around and are shocked to find Jin, who was standing by the basement door with a coffee cup in his hand and a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Oppa! W-what…what are you doing here?” It sounded like a dumb question as soon as the words left your mouth.

He chuckled. “Last I checked, I thought I still lived here.” He shuts the basement door and walks towards the kitchen.

You shook your head, trying to shuffle your thoughts around so they could come out more logically. You nervously walk after him. “N-no, I just meant–I-I thought you had midterms and that you weren’t planning on coming home this weekend?”

“Well, we had a massive power failure on campus so...while the admin is still trying to clean that up, our midterms have been pushed back to next week. I thought I’d come home to get some laundry done, maybe surprise you guys. I didn’t realize that I was in for one, too.”

“Oh my god, oppa–” you said, mortified. “H-how much did you see?”

“Enough,” he says flatly while refilling his coffee cup before turning back to face you. “How long has this been going on?”

“A few weeks,” you mumbled.

He eyed you silently for a minute. “Shit, took you guys long enough!” He roared in laughter.

“Y-you’re not mad?” Your dad and Taehyung knew but you weren’t sure about Jin. He hovered just as much as Namjoon did when he detected boys sniffing around. But since he’s been away at college, you didn’t think much about how he’d react.

He exhaled dramatically. “You know, I’ve watched the way Hoseokie has looked at you all these years. I didn’t think he had it in him to ever make a move,” he chuckled again. “What does Namjoonie think?”

“Uh…” You internally panic, “We haven’t told him yet, oppa. So please–don’t–”

“Geez…calm down!” He laughed, “I was just asking!”

“I told Hobi that we just need to find the right time. He’s been feeling some pressure at school with college applications…his girlfriend,” you mumbled. Namjoon hadn’t been with his girlfriend that long but she was a bit high-maintenance and the stress of all that has led him to take more bike rides during the weekends.

Jin laughed again while picking up his mug. “Say no more! Your secret’s safe with me. But uh…let me know when you plan on telling Joon.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “Why?”

“I wanna see how fast he can make Hoseok run across town,” he chuckled, drinking his coffee.

******

“Hey!”

“Hi,” you beamed back at Hobi. You kept a safe distance, in case anybody was watching, while he opened the car door for you.

You climbed into the back seat while you waited for your brothers. Taehyung said that he was talking to his teacher to try and get some extra work to raise his D to a C in Chem class. Namjoon, on the other hand, was wrapping up a quick student council meeting to discuss final details for prom night.

“Aren’t you on the committee this year?” Hobi asks as he slides back into the driver seat.

You leaned forward, resting your elbows on both sides of the front seats. “Yeah, but I have all my ducks in a row, that’s why I got to leave early. Namjoon wanted to talk about the faculty chaperones. I guess we need a couple more so he’s trying to delegate.”

Hobi laughed. “He was made for this job.”

“Oh, I know,” you sighed. “I almost dread what kind of person he’s going to morph into by the time graduation rolls around. He’s trying to oversee the yearbook committee, too.” You clicked your teeth, “But, I guess some people just thrive on that type of pressure.”

He groaned. “Not too stressed, I hope. I really want us to talk to him soon–at least before this weekend. I don’t want him to be all shocked that we’re going to prom...as a couple.”

You sighed. “Well, I guess…” you sighed again, “If he was in a shitty mood, we could still try to play it off as if we were going as friends?” You squint one eye at Hobi, unsure of what kind of headspace Namjoon would be in this weekend. You and Hobi were tired of sneaking around behind his back and he was feeling extra guilty about lying to his best friend about skipping their game nights to hang out with you–in your bedroom, across the hall from him.

He chuckled. “We could go as friends but…what if I wanted to hold your hand or pull you closer when we dance?” He leaned in further, “Or…kiss you?”

You crack a smile so wide, your face nearly splits in half. “Hobi…”

“What? Couples make out at prom…and…stuff.”

“Stuff?”

“Yeah…” He lowered his voice, his face inching closer to you until the tip of his nose touches yours. “You know…stuff.”

“You’d like to do stuff with me?”

“Only if you’re okay with it.

You looked out the windshield to make sure that Namjoon wasn’t walking down towards the van yet. When the coast was clear, you smiled against Hobi’s lips. “Can you settle for a kiss for the time-being?”

“Always.”

His kiss was tender–all of his kisses were. It was as if he took the utmost care not to bruise somebody he thought about so delicately–even though you were anything but. He just wanted to make sure that you were handled with great care…and that he deserved to be the one to do so.

Little did you know, while you were both lost in your stolen moment, Namjoon stood a few feet away, catching you in the act.

******

Namjoon is quiet the whole ride, which you found very strange.

Normally, he would always joke around; talk about the last student council meeting; or spout some random factoid of the day. Today, there was none of that. He just stared out the window, with his elbow on the passenger door while his chin rested on his hand.

You, Taehyung, and Hobi continued to laugh about something that happened at the cafeteria during lunch – no smartass quips from Namjoon.

His jaw was clenched from the moment he got in the passenger seat, right up until Hobi makes that final turn into your street.

Hobi pulls the car by the curb, leaving the engine on to let you all off before he makes that sharp turn into their driveway across the street. You thought it was really attractive whenever he did it in one swift move…which was pretty much all the time.

“Alright, see you tomorrow, guys.” Hobi says with a smile. He glances up at the rearview mirror at you and you smile back at him. You distantly hear Namjoon’s teeth click in his mouth.

“Thank you, Hobi. See you tomorrow.” You reach around from behind the driver seat and give his shoulder a squeeze. Something you had done many times before.

Namjoon catches a glimpse of the gesture and tenses up further. “Taehyung-ah, get out of the car.”

The rest of you look at each other in confusion. You weren’t sure where Namjoon’s sudden hostility was coming from. Maybe his meeting didn’t end so well?

“H-hyung?” Your little brother asks tentatively, making sure that he heard Namjoon right. Taehyung was seated behind him so he couldn’t tell if he was being serious.

“Did I stutter?” Namjoon snaps again.

“Uh…o-okay.” Taehyung keeps his head down, grabs his backpack, then exits the car to walk up the path to your front door.

You make a grab for the car door but Namjoon stops you. “No, you stay,” he says gruffly.

“Excuse me?” You sassed.

He turned his body toward the backseat and looked you straight in the eye. “I said, stay, Kim YN-ah!” He barked.

It made you gasp. That was usually Jin’s line. Namjoon very rarely used that ‘older brother’ tone on you.

Hobi’s brows knitted for a second but he relaxes his features, to try to break the tension. “Namjoonie, what’s up with—“

“What do you think you’re doing, Jung Hoseok?” His glare stops Hobi in his tracks.

This confuses you even further. What crawled up his ass today?

“Joon, what are—“

“Are you trying to fuck with me, Hoseok-ah?”

Hobi is taken aback by his question. “Namjoonie, I don’t understand—“

“I saw you at the parking lot earlier…touching my sister!” Namjoon’s eyes look like they’re about to fire laser beams at his friend.

Your mouth falls open, head prickling while your mind races, flashing back to the little moment that you and Hobi shared earlier. A moment that you both thought was private and hidden enough as you waited for Namjoon and Taehyung.

“Joon!”

Namjoon continued his ranting, completely ignoring you. “What happened to our bro-code, man? My sister is off-limits!”

You scoffed at your brother. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Be quiet!” Namjoon bellows at you, making your shoulders jerk.

Hobi’s face turns into a look of concern. He was afraid of this. He knew that he shouldn’t have let things get this far without telling his best friend. “Namjoon, it’s not what you think. YN and I, we—“

“No-no-no-no…” He lets out a humorless chuckle. “There is no ‘we’ between you and my sister. You and I agreed—“

“Excuse me but your sister is right here, and I have a name!” You exclaim angrily, having had enough of being referred to in the third person. “You keep talking about me as if I was invisible! What the fuck!”

“Watch your language!”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes at Namjoon. “Don’t play the ‘oppa’ trump card on me, Namjoon. It doesn’t suit you.”

“I am still older than you, YN-ah.”

You roll your eyes again. “Please–just stop–”

“Namjoonie–we wanted to tell you sooner, I swear,” Hobi finally says.

There was a long, silent pause–only filled by the sounds of the idling engine and Namjoon’s heavy breathing.

“Then why didn’t you?” Namjoon kept his voice low but it still had an edge to it.

Hobi opens his mouth to try to reason with his friend but you interject. “Because I told him to hold off on it. We just wanted to find the right moment.”

Namjoon pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to rein in his unreasonable anger. “I never would have thought–my best friend and my sister!” He shakes a clenched fist in mid-air.

“We didn’t plan on this happening. It just…kind of did.” You pulled the sassiness back and soften your tone.

“And you both decided to just mess around behind my back?”

Hobi finally turns the engine off. He took in a sharp breath before he lifted his chin to look Namjoon in the eye. “Namjoonie, I’m not messing around!” He says defensively. Your ears started to heat up and your heart pounded. You’ve never seen Hobi and Namjoon talk to each other like this. They’ve bickered and fought over trivial things like Pokemon cards or someone not returning the other’s Nas or Tupac CD. But at the end of the day, they always forgot about it and moved on as if nothing happened.

“I would never ever do that…not with her. I…” He paused for a beat to steady his breathing. “I’m in love with her, bro.”

You gasped softly. It was the first time he had ever said the words. Although his actions were more than enough to show you, hearing the words escape his lips felt near-euphoric.

Namjoon’s features soften. Suddenly, the urge to rip his friend’s head off was starting to fade.

Hobi turns his body to glance back at you and reaches for your hand. You interlace your fingers with his. “I’m sorry. I…didn’t plan on telling you like this but–” He smiled softly. “I love you,” he says evenly and confidently.

“Y-you’re in love with her?” Namjoon asks, still in disbelief.

Hobi kept his eyes on you. “Yeah. I have been, for a while,” he says in earnest. “I’m sorry it took me so long to say it.”

Your heart soars at his untimely confession but it didn’t matter. You loved him, too... so much…and for so long. You grinned at Hobi and couldn’t help but reach up to touch his cheek with your free hand.

Namjoon squirms at the sight of you looking at Hobi lovingly. He growls annoyingly. “Yaahh!!! What the fuck? I can’t believe this! How the hell did this happen?”

You give Namjoon a deadpan look. “Look, Joon–does it matter?” You turned your head back to Hobi. “I love him, too. And besides, dad and mom are okay with it. Jin-oppa and Tae are cool with it–”

“Wait-wait-wait-wait-wait–” Namjoon cuts you off. “You mean to tell me–that I am the last person to find out about this?”

You and Hobi grimace at each other, guilt painted all over your faces.

“I–I can’t believe this,” Namjoon says, sounding defeated. All that barking from earlier had been reduced to soft puppy-like whines. Regret eats away at you further. You and Namjoon were the closest out of all of your siblings. You practically shared everything together–whether by choice or otherwise. It was that openness between you two that strengthened your bond.

But since getting into a relationship with Hobi, you had been more secretive. Even though you meant well and fully intended on coming clean to him, you felt sorry for lying to him. And although half of your fears were warranted–based on his intense reaction earlier, you still felt bad.

You released Hobi’s hand and scooted closer to your brother. “Joon…I’m sorry for not telling you sooner. It wasn’t Hobi’s fault. I told him that we should hold off on telling you. I just…I wasn’t sure how you’d react and–well…truthfully, I didn’t want you to murder my boyfriend.”

He winces at the sound of the term. Your ‘boyfriend.’ Hobi was no longer a friend who happened to be a boy–oh, no. He was a boyfriend. He shuddered at the thought. Just when he was getting used to the idea of you dating. He wished Jin was here to back him up.

“Was Jin-hyung pissed?”

You bit your lip guiltily and shifted in your seat. “Uhm…n-not exactly.”

“What do you mean?” Namjoon asked.

“H-he…he said that…he wanted to be here when I told you...And he wondered how fast Hobi could run.”

Namjoon’s eyebrows furrowed at that. He thought Jin would have a stronger reaction since he almost blew his gasket when he caught his varsity teammate chatting you up right before a game nearly two years ago.

You and Hobi almost jump up on your seats when Namjoon bursts out laughing hysterically. You think maybe the shock had gone straight to his brain and he had started to lose his mind.

“I…I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” He chokes out after he calms down from all of the laughing. “I just feel like I’m having a Ross Gellar moment here.”

Namjoon loved his ‘Friends’ references. If there was an opportunity to insert it at any point during a conversation, he would. It somewhat calmed you down.

“I meant what I said, Joon,” Hobi says, turning serious. “I love YN. I would never do anything to hurt her.”

Namjoon sighed, shifting his eyes between you and Hobi. “Damn. My best friend…and my sister,” he shook his head gently then chuckled.

You and Hobi took it as his blessing. You scoot over closer to Hobi, smiling and gazing at each other, as if a giant boulder had been lifted off your chests. You touched your nose to his.

“Yah!” Namjoon squawks, interrupting your moment with Hobi. “I may be cool with both of you dating but please…I am begging you not to do all that,” he gestures his hand aimlessly at both of you, “...In front of me! Or…at least keep it to a minimum.”

You roll your eyes at Namjoon. “Fine. Now can you please get out of the car so I can kiss my boyfriend goodbye?”

Namjoon starts to gag at the thought. “Fuck, man,” he says under his breath before he pulls at the car door’s latch to open it.

“By the way, he’s coming over after dinner to watch a movie with me tonight.”

Namjoon groans. “As long as you both watch in the living room.” He steps out onto the curb.

You called out from the open window in the van. “Well, it’s a nice change of pace since we usually just watch in my room,” you laughed.

Namjoon lets out another pained cry, clutching his ears as if they started to bleed.

Once your front door shuts, you climb over to the front seat next to Hobi, still giggling.

“Don’t torture him, YN.” Hobi says, trying to defend his friend.

“I know, I know. I’m just…happy that we don’t need to sneak around anymore.”

Hobi sighed, seemingly content. “Yeah.” He leaned in closer to you. “But if I’m being honest, I’ll miss the whole ‘sneaking around’. It was kind of exciting.” He grinned mischievously at you before cocking an eyebrow knowingly.

“Jung Hoseok!” You grinned at him, suddenly feeling flustered.

He chuckled. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. Actually, it’s a nice thought to actually leave from the front door rather than climbing down your window. I almost broke my ankle that one night!”

You laughed at him. “I’m sorry, jagiya.”

He laughed in return. “I know, I know. I meant what I told him, though. I love you, sunshine.” He touched his finger to your cheek, making your eyes close instinctively at the contact.

When you opened them, you smiled warmly at him. “And I love you, too.” At the sound of that, he closed the gap between you two to press his lips against yours. He cupped your jaw and you melted into him. Your kiss wasn’t frantic or rushed because you weren’t trying to hide from anybody. It was all out in the open.

You loved Hobi and he loved you. And you were happy to show everyone that.

High school graduation and the next four years of college were not without its challenges. But anytime things got difficult, you and Hobi always had each other to lean on. Namjoon had his own thing going–doubling back between university and traveling into the city to send demos and mix-tapes.

Taehyung was off partying God-knows-where, enjoying his college years, and Jin was back home helping your dad at the restaurant. Things between him and Yoojung were getting more serious–they had just moved in together. Your parents thought that an engagement would be on the horizon soon.

You and Hobi would talk about the future, too. Even though graduation was several months away, you were intent on securing a job in the city. There were more prospects for you there and opportunities for growth in your chosen industry: fashion.

“So, I have a couple of internships that I applied to. I should be hearing back from them in the next week or so. Have you looked into those other places that I emailed to you?”

You looked up at Hobi from your laptop screen. He was busy polishing some glasses behind the bar.

“Jagi?”

“Huh?”

“I asked if you checked out those places that I forwarded to you. They’re big accounting firms in the city and are accepting at least 5-10 interns this year.”

“Yeah, I did. I reached out and sent my application in.”

You smiled at him. Hobi dragged his feet with his internship applications but you gently nudged him–by sending him a few potential companies that he could work at. Hobi decided to major in accounting, just like his mom. He was already getting some real-time training in bookkeeping when he helped out at Hangsang, the local pub his family owned and ran.

“You know, if you do well, they’ll hire you directly. You’d be set right before graduation,” you say encouragingly.

“You don’t have to say all that. If I get it, I get it. Otherwise, I can just go and find a job elsewhere.”

That made you frown. For months, you and Hobi have talked about moving to the city together after graduation. He never really expressed any misgivings every time you brought it up. But as your senior year at university drew to a close, it seemed as if he wasn’t so keen on the idea.

“Don’t think like that, jagi. You have to be positive! You have such a great personality and you’re so smart. I’m sure you’ll ace the interview.”

He gave you a small smile. “Well, if my girlfriend believes in it then, who am I to question it?”

You beam at him then lean over to peck him on the lips. When you pull away, he’s smiling but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Is there something else bothering you, jagi?”

He sighed. “I’m just nervous, I guess. We’re far from home and we won’t know anybody there…”

“Namjoonie will be there,” You say in an attempt to console him.

“I know, but he’ll be doing his own thing. It’s not like he can hang out with us every single day.”

“Then we’ll just have to make new friends!”

He looked at you ruefully. “What’s wrong with the friends that we have?”

“That’s not what I mean, Hobi. What I’m saying is that we should make more friends…in addition to the ones that we have. It’s all part of getting acclimated, you know?”

Hobi, although incredibly outgoing once you got to know him, was painfully shy when it came to meeting new people. He always kept with the same inner circle and rarely ventured out. You knew that this was a stretch for him.

You cupped his face and gazed at him lovingly. “Jagi, it’s going to be difficult. I’m fully aware of that. I’m scared, too–I don’t know how things will play out for us. But you know what? Knowing that we’re doing this together? That’s all that I need to help me get through anything.”

He stared back at you, his thumb gently brushing over your eyebrow.

“Can we please just try? Please, Hoseokie?” You gave him your best puppy-eyes.

After a few beats, he nods softly. You beam with excitement and pepper him with kisses.

“Okay, okay,” he chuckles. When you calm down and pull away from him, his expression turns sober again.

“And if it doesn’t work out?”

You pursed your lips. Truthfully, you didn’t want to think of a scenario where things didn’t work out. But because you love him, you didn’t want him to be unhappy. He was already stepping out of his comfort zone for you but only with the assurance that you’d be in this together. You owed him that much.

You looked him straight in the eye. “Then we’ll come back. We’ll put our roots down here.”

He touched the tip of his nose to yours. “Okay then,” he acquiesced and smiled more broadly this time.

You smiled back and kissed him. “I love you, Hoseok.”

“Love you, too, Sunshine.”

After a day of moving, you and Hobi finally settle into your new place in the city. Once the moving truck was empty, you repaid your family with some delicious, extra greasy takeout food while Hobi picked up two 6-packs of beer from the liquor store around the corner from your building.

It was just a little past 8 PM and Jin, Taehyung, Jimin, his dad and your dad just left to drive back home. Namjoon left slightly earlier because he had a meeting with a music producer the next day.

The whole process went pretty smoothly except when your furniture got delivered. The couch was good, the dining table was good, but when it came to your bed, the company seemed to have shipped it with the wrong frame. They apologized and promised to deliver it in two days since it had to come from a different warehouse.

“I mean…I guess we’ll be okay for a couple days?” You stood in your bedroom, hands on your hips, staring at the floor, where the mattress currently laid. You wondered if it was worth putting sheets on it now or you’d be better off sleeping on the couch–which had a pull-out bed.

You felt Hobi’s hands wrap around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder. You instinctively lean your head back to him, fatigue, suddenly hitting you.

“I don’t mind roughing it for a couple days.”

His comment made you chuckle. You were hardly ‘roughing it.’ You got lucky scoring the apartment. Not only was it in a decent neighborhood but it was rent-controlled, too. Your dad beamed with pride at you.

“So…” he began. “Do you want to christen it?”

You snorted. “Are you kidding? With the mattress on the floor?”

“Oh, c’mon,” he says slyly, “At least it’s on a mattress and not the backseat of my mom’s minivan?”

You roll your eyes at the reminder of where you had sex the first time. “Sure. And the sound of plastic sheeting crinkling under my naked body has always been a little kink of mine.” There may have been a mattress but you hadn’t unwrapped it yet since the frame hadn’t been delivered.

He laughed out loud. “That’s a very solvable problem.” He leaves the room quickly and is back in a few seconds with one of your throw-blankets. He quickly unfurls it and spreads it across the top.

He crouched down to sit on the edge of the mattress before scooting back to stretch out fully, putting his hands behind his head and laying on them.

“See? Nice and comfy already!”

You smiled. Leave it to him to always be solution-focused and see the bright side of things.

With a sigh, you bent down to crawl up to the mattress. He pulled his left hand from under his nape to stretch it across the empty space. You rested your head on it and snuggled up next to him. He pulls you in closer and plants a chaste kiss to your forehead.

You crane your neck up slightly to look at him. “Are you happy, jagi?” You ask him quietly. Before you left home, he had some reservations about moving away.

His thumb gently brushed over your eyebrow while he regarded you intently. “Wherever I’m at, as long as I’m with you–I’ll always be happy.”

“I love you, Hobi.”

“I love you too, sunshine.” He tilts your chin up, lowered his lips to yours and kissed you. It was soft, almost leisurely at first. It wasn’t long before you were licking and moaning into his mouth while his tongue also fought its way into yours.

You moved your body closer to his, feeling his hardon pressing against your center. You grind onto it, making him groan into your mouth.

He withdrew himself from you to pull his shirt off. You sit up and do the same then reach behind you with one hand to unclasp your bra.

He cursed under his breath once your breasts came into view.

Despite the humidity in the room, your nipples tightened into hard points. With a soft grunt, he sinks his mouth onto one to suck on it. You let out a moan when he flicked your nipple with the tip of his tongue. You feel your panties soak through in an instant.

“Hobi…I want you now,” you begged.

“Nah-uh. You know I love to take my time with you,” he crooned.

“But I’m ready,” you whined petulantly while dragged his mouth down your sternum, placing soft kisses on your ribcage.

“Just let me savor you first,” he says in between kisses. “And when I’m done, I promise I’ll give you what you want.”

You groan in frustration but in the back of your mind, you knew he was good for it—especially when he paused right below your navel, tugging on the waistband of your bottoms and underwear, peeling them off you, and tossed them somewhere on the floor.

Your thighs parted, as if they had a mind of their own, in anticipation of what would happen next.

He slots himself between you, resting the backs of your legs on his shoulders to open you up wider for him.

He swipes your clit with the tip of his nose to take a whiff of you, making your breath hitch in response. It didn’t matter if you were covered in dried up sweat from moving and unpacking boxes all day today. Your scent always turned him on. Something about the mixture of your pleasure and arousal made him feel euphoric.

He brushes your clit with his fingertips prolonging the agony for you, before pushing two fingers into your cunt.

“You’re all soaked,” he purred while simultaneously sliding his fingers in and out.

“I told you I was ready,” you mewled while you bucked your hips against his hand. “Stop playing with me and just fuck me, please!”

He chuckled, ignoring your pleas. “Always impatient, huh? You know I always want to make you cum first.” With that, he withdrew his fingers. You watched him lick them, and you would have cum right then.

Then he lowered his head again, dragging his tongue against your folds. You hissed through your teeth and tugged at his hair when he wrapped his lips around you, sucking and fluttering his tongue on your clit.

Your pulse quickened, feeling your climax building up within you.

“Fuck, Hobi…you’re so good at that.”

He hummed into your clit at the sound of your praise, the vibration pushing you closer to the edge.

“Oooh shit, I’m so close, fuck…”

Pushing two fingers into you, he curls them upwards and massages the sensitive tissues within you while he continues to tongue your clit.

With a few more gentle suctions and some hard licks, you cried out hoarsely once your orgasm hit, your core pulsing and squeezing around his fingers that he continued to pump in and out of you. You flinch, trying to pull away from him once overstimulation starts to set.

Still in a daze, you barely register him getting rid of his bottoms. But then you came back to full awareness once you felt him sink his length into you. Your walls make room for him while he stretched and filled you.

You wrapped your legs around his waist and churned your hips restlessly…your body quietly begging for more.

You looked into his eyes, they were dark and glazed with equal amounts of lust and love. He dipped his head to kiss you. You taste your arousal from his lips, igniting your desire even more.

His full weight was on you while deep, sexy groans vibrated against your chest. Your walls convulsed while he thrusted in and out, boring deeper into you.

Then, he paused to shift your bodies on the mattress, where he sat up and you were on top of him. He loved this position–when he would watch your tits bounce or suck on them while you rode his cock until you came all over him.

He licked the beads of sweat that dripped between the valley of your breasts, then moved to gently bite each nipple, sending another rush of shivers down your spine.

He cupped your face in his hands and locked eyes with you. “You’re so beautiful…I love you…”

You pressed your forehead to his. “I love you, jagi…so much.” You kissed him again while you rolled your hips to him. He breaks the kiss only to suck on his thumb before he slid his hand between you. He massaged your clit in slow, rhythmic circles. You lean back a little to give him better access, keeping your hands on his shoulders for leverage while his free hand holds your waist securely to him.

You contract your insides furiously, building up another climax as the feel of his cock fucking into you and his thumb on your clit work you up into a frenzy.

The way he knew your body was insane. He knew exactly where to touch, where to kiss, how to tease and how far to push it. He knew all of your cues, every shudder, a hitch on your breathing, and your moans…

You dragged one out while he hit a sensitive bundle of nerves in you. “Mm…getting close again, huh?”

You nod your head furiously, which only spurred him further. He kept stroking your clit and met your thrusts, goading your climax. The sensitivity made you thrash against the onslaught. A few more pulses of his finger on your clit sent you over the edge. You came again, letting out a hoarse, broken cry.

A rough sound rumbled within his chest while he swelled inside you, chasing his own climax.

“I’m close…where can I cum?”

“Lemme suck you off,” you breathed out.

He slowed his tempo. “You sure?”

You leaned in to kiss him. “Yes.”

He held you as you pulled yourself off him gingerly. He watched while you sat on your heels and settled between his legs. The flat of your tongue traced a vein up his length and up to the tip, making him drag out a groan. You took him in your mouth again, your neck arching back as you lowered.

“Holy fuck…” He threw his head back as his cock hit the back of your throat. You pulled back, your tongue coated in your arousal mixed with the rich flavor of him.

He groaned, his hands cupping your jaw. “Don’t stop, baby. Suck me dry.”

Your cheeks hollowed as you found your rhythm, while the sound of his ragged breaths and moans filled the room.

“Fuck, baby…gonna cum…” He ground out. His cock swelled in your mouth. Your scalp stung as his hand fisted and pulled at your hair.

His mouth fell open, his abdomen clenched as he let out a guttural cry, his body shuddering as he came hard.

He cursed as you swallowed. He emptied himself in thick, hot bursts, as if it was the last thing he’d ever do. By the time he finished, you were gasping for air.

He pulled you to your feet while you both stumbled backwards onto the mattress, tucking you to his side. His lungs struggled to catch his breath while he came down from his high. His hands roughly roamed your sweat-slicked body as he pulled you in tighter.

“Holy shit, I think I can see spots before my eyes!” He choked out, pressing a quick, rough kiss to your forehead. “Who knew blowjobs could cause temporary blindness?”

You curled into him, resting your head against his chest while his heart pounded loudly while you sighed. “Wow, I’ll take that as a compliment!” He lets out a throaty laugh.

You held each other like that for a while, his fingers sifting through your hair and gliding gently down your back.

“I’m so happy,” he said quietly while his lips tickled your temple.

You craned your neck to peer up at him. “You make me happy.” Swallowing a lump in your throat, you whispered, “Don’t ever leave me.”

He smiled and caressed your cheek. “I don’t think I could ever do life without you.”

******

“Hey…you haven’t touched your dinner.”

Even though you hear Hobi’s voice from a distance, you couldn’t make out what he was actually saying since your eyes were glued to your laptop and piles of paperwork that you’ve been poring over all weekend.

It was close to 11PM and you had a deadline–it technically wasn’t for another few days but you wanted to finish early and leave a great impression on the bosses.

You and Hobi were supposed to head back home for the long weekend but you volunteered to put together a capsule collection that was shaping up to be high-profile. It was a collaboration effort with a celebrity so you had to spend many hours picking and choosing possible pieces along with moodboards to present to your client. You saw it as a great opportunity to give you that leg up that you need to secure this permanent position at the company.

For a moment, you closed your eyes and stretched your neck from side-to-side. You tried to convince Hobi that he could still make the trip home to go see his parents and you would just stay back at your apartment in the city to finish work.

He refused to leave without you.

“Baby?”

“Hm?” His voice snaps you out of your hazy state–fatigue mixed with hunger and irritation. He was standing right behind you now, rubbing your neck and shoulders.

“You should get some rest.” He bends down and places a kiss on the crown of your head.

You leaned back towards him briefly, focusing on his hands that worked the pent up tension off your back. A few seconds later, you hunched over your laptop again. “I just need another two hours, jagiya. I have this all figured out–I only need to line this all up to make sure everything’s within the theme…then I can get all of it done before tomorrow.”

“I thought you said this wasn’t due ‘til next Friday? You know, on account of the holiday this weekend.” He took the seat next to you on the dining table.

You sighed, rubbing your cheeks slowly, willing some life back into them. Hobi watched you silently. You’d dropped a bit of weight since you were stressed and overworked.

“You should eat something. I can feed you, if you like?” he offers.

You chuckled at the idea. “Hobi, I’m not a little kid. You don’t have to do that.”

He remained serious and stared at you with concern. “I know I don’t have to but–I just get worried when you skip meals.” He cupped your hollowed cheeks. “You’ll get sick, sunshine. At least take a break and have a few bites?”

You gave him a small smile and relent. “Okay,” you say quietly. You take your plate of food that he made you and gingerly get up from your seat to microwave it. But as soon as you stood up, your vision went blurry for a second. The next thing you knew, your world had turned upside down.

Hobi curses, catching you before you hit the floor.

*********

A week later, after a long day at work, you come home to your apartment. You were surprised to see Hobi home early since he previously mentioned that he was meant to pull an all-nighter at the office to get through piles of paperwork.

“Hey.” He greets you after you toed your shoes off by the door. “I thought you had some stuff to finish at the office?”

“Eh…I just thought I put in enough hours this week. Someone else can start pulling their weight. How was your day?”

You flopped yourself on the couch next to him and he instantly wraps his arms around you.

“Fucking long,” you say emphatically, then sighing heavily. “I got in trouble today because one of the other junior staff fucked up on one of the documents, so I pretty much ate shit for the better part of the day.”

“What? And you didn’t say anything?”

“Well–technically, I handed off the work to her because I already had a ton of stuff going on. It was my responsibility to give her all of the information and…I missed a few details.” You groaned at the headache that started to build up.

“That’s fucked up! Did you tell your boss that it wasn’t your fault?”

“Hobi–I already apologized, I corrected the mistake—“

“Why? Why would you apologize for someone else’s screwup?”

“Hobi, please…I just wanted to avoid more trouble. Trying to argue would have just aggravated the situation and I really didn’t want to make it worse.”

He shakes his head. “That’s fucked up,” he says under his breath.

You scoffed. “Excuse me? In case you’ve forgotten, we need to keep our jobs to stay afloat here.”

“Mm…and getting treated for exhaustion is part of staying afloat?”

You bit the inside of your cheek at the sound of that. This job took its toll–but you had to work hard. All of this effort you were putting in was going towards your future.

“We should just go back home,” he says unceremoniously.

Your head jerked back in surprise. “Go back home? W-why?”

“Because, I hate watching you struggle like this! That night I took you to the hospital? It scared the shit out of me!”

A pang of guilt hits you. “I…I’m sorry for that, jagi. I’m trying to take care of myself now. I’m eating, taking breaks…”

“It’s not just that,” he interjects. He opens his mouth, hesitating for a few seconds before continuing. “You collapsing was the final straw!”

Your shoulders slump, utterly at a loss for words at this. You weren’t sure where all of this negativity was coming from. Day in and day out, you both went to your jobs, fully committed to reach your goals.

Final straw?

“What are you saying?”

He sighed heavily. “I’ve held on for as long as I could…but I just can’t anymore. I’ve been struggling…a lot. I hate my job, I’m tired, and I’m stressed all the time. What’s worse is that I don’t like how it’s all starting to affect us.”

“Hobi–I…” you moistened your dry lips. “Look, we knew it wasn’t going to be easy, right? And that it wasn’t going to be smooth-sailing? We’d get some bumps in the road…” you trailed off, trying to justify your situation.

“I know that but–we go out, come home…then we fight. It wasn’t like this before. I don’t want us to resent each other.”

“What? Jagi, I don’t resent you. Work is just…there’s just a lot of pressure involved for me and I’m sure what you’re going through is a rough patch. That’s what happens when we’re just starting out, right? Once we’re a bit more established–”

“I quit.”

“W-what?” Your voice faltered in disbelief.

“I quit my job. Today.” He deadpanned.

“W-wait–you quit?” You heard exactly what he said but you wanted him to repeat it once more just to make sure that this wasn’t one of his ‘gotcha’ jokes.

He nodded. “I was just getting pushed too hard and I couldn’t stand it anymore. Nobody should be allowed to treat people that way!”

Hobi had struggled at work from the get-go but he didn’t talk about it openly. He was usually vague when you asked him about it. In reality, he had a difficult time relating to people at the office, much less pleasing his boss.

In an effort to cheer him up, you tried taking him with you to happy hours with your coworkers and casual nights out with your new friends but something in him still felt off.

“Hoseok–” you groaned. “That is irresponsible of you. What about our rent? Bills? I–How…” You tried to form coherent sentences. “What are we going to do?”

After a beat of silence, he looked you straight in the eye. “We can go home.”

His suggestion stopped you in your tracks. “But…what about my job?”

“Sunshine, we can start over back home! The great thing is that we’re already familiar with it. We don’t need to make changes, everything can just stay the same! And the rent and utilities? Since we’re not locked into a lease anymore, we can just finish out the month in this place. That’s in two weeks!”

“Two…weeks?” You say vaguely. You felt as if you were having an out-of-body experience.

“I could see how this internship has been taking its toll on you. It’s just not right. You’re putting in all of this effort for a job that may not even get offered to you in the end. There’s no guarantee in that!”

He had a point. There was absolutely no assurance that you were going to get selected for the full-time position at the company. Although your boss promised that they would write everyone great recommendations, it wasn’t enough for you to bank on that.

“Huh…two weeks?” You ask again.

“Yeah, we’re out of here in two weeks!”

Your mouth opens tentatively, “Wow…that’s…really soon…”

Softening his features, he moves closer to you, cupping your face. His eyes glistened differently. It was this bright, warm light that seemed to have been snuffed out not long after you moved away from home. But now, with the promise of leaving all this behind, that glow was back.

“I know it’s a lot to take in. But think about it, we’ll be back home! No more stress, no pressure,” he assures you.

“R-right,” you concurred.

Then, he gets an idea. “C’mon, you must be starving! I’ll make you dinner, okay? It’ll be done by the time you get out of the shower,” he grinned.

A week later…

Hobi busied himself, packing and boxing up your things. Unfortunately, work has been riding your ass so much that you haven’t had the time to pack or sort through your stuff at the apartment.

Today, you came home early after a big meeting with your manager.

You were standing in the kitchen when the door opened and he saw you. He was just coming back from running errands all morning.

“Hey, sunshine,” he beamed at you.

You gave a somber greeting back. He walks straight to you to give you a kiss.

“I just spoke to our landlord,” he began excitedly, “She said that she’s sad to see us go since we’ve been such good tenants. She also said that if we ever change our minds and come back, she’d be happy to refer us to one of her other properties. I said that was a nice offer but I don’t think we’d be back anytime soon,” he chuckled. Leaning onto the counter, he sees that you were still quiet.

“Are you okay? Are you hungry? I can fix you something–”

“No, I’m…I’m okay right now,” you answer him. “Just had a pretty eventful day at work.”

“I’m sure,” he grinned. “Is your boss stressing out over your replacement after your two weeks are up?”

You exhaled nervously. “Actually…I wanted to talk to you about that.”

His eyebrows furrowed. “Talk to me about what?”

“Work.”

“Work?” He repeated. “What’s there to talk about? You put in your two weeks, right?”

You shifted your weight on your feet anxiously and sank your teeth into your bottom lip.

“You did put in your two weeks, right? YN?”

“I got offered the full-time position today…” You paused to gauge his reaction before continuing. When he didn’t speak, you said, “...And I accepted it.”

His jaw falls open from shock and confusion. “I…I don’t understand. I thought that you–”

“I was, I was! I…I fully intended on putting my two weeks in but I–”

“Is that why you haven’t packed?” He looked around the apartment where your things were still strewn about.

You stared at him blankly and didn’t answer.

“YN…” He gripped his forehead in exasperation. “I don’t get it. What else would be keeping you here?”

“A guarantee,” you answer quietly.

“What? What do you mean?” He was incredulous.

“You’ve told me that I keep hanging onto something that wasn’t even guaranteed. But now that it is, I’ve decided that I’m staying. I can’t leave now.”

His voice rose. “Yes, you can! Just as we came here, we can get out of here.”

“No!” You said firmly.

“I’m sorry…did you just say ‘no’?” He chuckled bitterly. “You really want to stay in this hell-hole?”

“It is not a hell-hole! Namjoon lives here and he’s doing just fine!”

“But that’s how Namjoon is! He grits his teeth and pushes through it. Doesn’t matter if his shit gets rejected 30 times. He’ll keep at it until he gets the validation that he needs. I’m not like that!”

“Well, maybe you just need to grow thicker skin!”

His eyebrows knitted at how absurd that was. “Thicker skin? What is that supposed to mean?”

“Meaning, you shouldn’t give up so easily. You have to keep pushing yourself to do better! This is all fuel—to make you stronger…better!”

His jaw drops in shock. “Better? Stronger?” He laughs bitterly.

“Yes! Things aren’t supposed to be just handed to you. You have to work for them!”

“You don’t think I worked my ass off in the last year?” He was agitated and started to pace around the room.

“I never said anything like that! But I also don’t understand why you are being so narrow-minded about all this.”

He stopped and stared at you, his expression hardening. “Oh, I’m narrow-minded? Will you listen to yourself? I just told you that I was unhappy at my job and our life here and you tell me to-to-to grow thicker skin? You are completely blinded by your ambition!”

You stared back at him, indignant. “My ambition? Wasn’t this supposed to be our dream to begin with? For our future?” You say loudly.

“This was not my dream nor was it what I envisioned as our future. This isn’t the life that I want.”

“Well, what kind of life did you have in mind?” You challenged.

“Just a simple, quiet life…with you.”

Now it was your turn to laugh. “See, that’s the problem with you. You’re just completely content in staying where you’re at. You don’t aim high enough.”

“The problem with you,” he points at you aggressively, “...is that nothing is ever enough. You always want more!”

You square your shoulders and tilted your chin up at him. “What’s wrong with wanting more?”

He caught his lower lip with his teeth, pain etched all over his beautiful face. “Because it means that I will never be enough for you.”

Your mouth drops at his remark and you let out a faint whimper. “Hobi…that’s…that’s not even–”

“I tried. I really tried. I tried adapting to life in the city. I went to work…tried to make new friends just to help me get used to it all even though I kept feeling out of place. And I did it all for you. But I realized that…I can’t do this for the rest of my life. It’s only been a year and I already feel exhausted. I’m done!”

You felt off-balance again, just as you did last week. Except that it wasn’t exhaustion or skipped meals that was causing it. After Hobi’s confession, you felt the need to lean against something. You settled for the kitchen counter.

“Please, YN, let’s go home,” he pleads, “While I still have my dignity.”

“If you’re exhausted and done with all of this…then leave,” you said quietly.

The crease between his eyebrows deepened. “Now you’re just being selfish.”

“Oh, I’m being selfish?” You pointed to yourself. “Working to build a nice future for us is selfish?”

“We can still have that! Why does it matter where we’re at?”

“Precisely! If where we’re at doesn’t matter to you, then why do we have to go back? Why can’t we stay here?”

Hobi runs his fingers through his hair in exasperation. “We’re going around in circles, sunshine–”

“Don’t call me that.” Your eyes turned downcast. His term of endearment always made your heart bloom, but hearing it now just made it sink.

“I resent the fact that you’d call me selfish.” Tears stung your eyes. “I am not nor have I ever been selfish when it came to you.”

You also worked your ass off in the last year. Working overtime, taking on more projects. You also did all of these things with him in mind. For both of you.

“YN…” He tried to reach out for you but you backed away from him.

You gazed at him wordlessly.

“I can’t leave without you,” he pleaded.

You sank your teeth to your bottom lip in an attempt to steady its quivering. “But I know that you can’t stay with me either.”

It’s been over two months. It felt more like years. But no, it’s only been a couple months.

You moved in with Namjoon temporarily until you saved up enough to find a place that you could afford. He didn’t mind you living with him and wasn’t pressuring you to move out, either. But since he’d been seeing this new girl, you didn’t want to cramp his style.

Since living in a new neighborhood, your usual work commute continued—albeit a different train stop. Luckily, both locations were still within walking distance.

“Miss! Miss!”

You look around to find a man chasing after you. While Namjoon’s neighborhood was relatively safe, living in the city has kept you hyper-vigilant and skeptical of random people trying to grab your attention at the train station.

You immediately dug your hand into your purse, finger firmly placed on the trigger of the can of mace that you carried with you.

“You dropped this,” the man says, holding up a familiar object.

Your other hand instinctively grabs at the carabiner keychain clipped to your purse strap. It held your office access badge and your metro card in a plastic card case. The card case was no longer attached to it.

“Oh my god!” You took your metro card and badge as he handed it back to you. The plastic case seemed to have broken off the keychain by accident. “Thank you,” you uttered in relief.

“You’re welcome. Might want to hang on to that,” he said, pointing to your transit pass.

“I had just reloaded this, too,” you said worriedly.

He smiled. “I noticed that you take the same train every night.”

You slowly reached into your purse for that can of mace again. “Y-yeah…”

The look on his face showed worry and confusion. “Oh…I wasn’t saying that to be a creep or anything. This is my stop, too. I just wanted to point out that we always seem to end up taking the same train often…the same car, even!”

You were still apprehensive. “I just happen to stand at a specific spot so that when I get off the train, I’m right by the escalators or stairs.”

He laughed. “I’m the same! I’d rather get in and out conveniently. I work around Montgomery Street,” he reveals.

“Oh, wow,” you let out a laugh, “That stop gets really packed.”

He nods. “I know.”

“I, uh, get on at the Powell Street stop.”

“Ah. Lots of retail shops there.”

“I work in fashion,” you affirm.

“I see,” he nodded again. “I didn’t catch your name—“

“I never gave it,” you responded.

He put his hand over his chest to introduce himself. “I’m Sam, by the way,” he smiled warmly. “And although I took a peek at your work badge, I’m hoping you would still tell me your name?”

He seemed a little less threatening now. You loosened your hold on the pepper spray.

“I’m YN.”

His smile grew wider. “It’s great to finally meet you.”

Joon and Jooni | Main Fic Masterlist

Thank you for reading!

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hollyhomburg · 1 day

Text

Before I Leave You (Pt.69)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: The pack meet with moonbyul to discuss terms.

Tags: Violence, Angst with the happy ending on the horizon, fluff if you squint, Yoongi gets really really angry and kinda triggers the m/c, allusions to past abuse, Blood, manipulative behavior, murderous tendencies, trans! tae, Transphobia, Trans! moonbyul,

W/c: 11.5k

A/n: wow something went heavily wrong with the formatting while i was editing this! if you notice any extra lines or weird breaks (especially on mobile) i tried my best! not sure what went wrong but i might just have to physically re-type this chapter again.

Previous part - Masterlist - First part

I’ll let you in on a little secret:

In every other version of this story, Hobi doesn’t get to the door in time.

In every other version, the doors would close and Hoseok would hit them with his fists and yell. Screaming himself bloody and hoarse in the futility of it all. Watching as his future with you melts away at his fingertips like ocean foam, slipping away into the sea like a piece of clear sea glass, disappearing into the deep. They’d miss you at the next station and the one after that too.

In every other version of reality, in every parallel universe, he's too late to save you.

But in this one, he gets his pinky finger between the doors just before they slam shut.

The safety feature that keeps the train from closing on any late passengers shoots open with a hiss of compressed air. It's only open for a split second but Hoseok shoves himself through the 8-inch gap and into the warm interior of the train. Jungkook is left on the other side, banging on the door, running to keep up with the car as it thuds and lurches and starts to speed up.

"Next station" Jungkook’s mouth forms the words but Hoseok doesn't hear him say it over the roar of the train. There’s only a few seconds of them staring at each other. Jungkook’s messy hair flops as he runs. The wetness on his cheeks from frustrated tears glistening in the yellow sunlight before Jungkook runs out of the platform and is left standing there at the edge. Hoseok hurdles on.

Hoseok’s blood is roaring in his ears. He puts his hands on his knees and pants. The thudding momentum of the train makes Hoseok fall over, either that or it's from lack of oxygen. One second he's looking at JK and then next he's sprawled on the dirty linoleum floor before he pulls himself upright.

His throat feels like it’s still swelling a little. He puts his hands there, trying to steady himself. Black spots dance in his vision and he catches himself for a second time on the metal rail as the train rolls and jostles.

When he coughs, there’s dark blood in the palm of his hands. Hoseok wipes it on his pajama pants and starts looking.

He knows he must look like something horrific because an old woman in the first priority row looks at him with a crinkle of concern twisting her face. “Are you alright son?” She asks, voice squeaky.

“Yeah, just a rough morning” he grabs the back of her seat as he sways, steading himself for just a second before he uses the headrest of the seat to pull himself back down the train.

Hobi combs through the train cars slowly, betting that you'll be close to the end. He takes the longer route first, better to go down to the end and work his way back up in case you're in the first three cars, just in case you decide to get off at the next station.

He searches and searches until the fear starts to take hold in his stomach, nausea or maybe it’s just motion sickness.

He draws a bit of attention as he moves. Mostly from adults, the little unpresented pups that jump back and forth between the seats without a care in the world don’t find the bruises on his neck anything out of the ordinary. But an omega pulls his pups into his lap at Hoseok's approach. Hoseok is too sick with worry to pay them any mind.

But Hoseok doesn't need to worry, because he finds you on the fifth train car.

The blue sticky vinyl seats are full of all sorts of people; A stuffy alpha in a suit and a pair of bright yellow headphones. A small elderly omega woman with a big bushel of frizzy hair and about 10 tote bags to her name muddles through her morning commute. Two freshly presented teenagers with patched-up jackets, punky and honest in their aesthetic.

But there- at the end of the car where the booth seats facing each other turn into single rows all facing the same direction. Folded into the window a figure in dark clothes hunched over trying to look as small as possible. Trying to disappear.

Trying to hide.

Anyone would be able to scent the clear and clary smell of distress and loneliness on the air. It’s the same scent that soaks Namjoon’s hospital- noxious and pungent. It hits Hoseok with such a visceral wave that he almost falls over again.

You’re wearing his sweatshirt and Yoongi’s jacket. The hood drawn up over your head to hide your sob blotchy face from the strangers. Sniffling as you look out the window. He sees you wipe your eyes. You don't look up at all. You don't even notice Hobi approaching until he's slipping into the seat next to you and sliding his hand to lace through yours. His knuckle, your knuckle, then his.

You startle. Predictably- your fear response has always been a little bit over the top. You flinch, whirling, starting when you see it’s him. Jerking your hand out of his on instinct and nearly backing yourself into the window. Getting yourself as far away from him on the narrow seat as possible.

He wants to yell at you, he wants to shout at how stupid you are for leaving something good. (Don’t you know how rare good is for people like us? Don’t you want to hold onto it?) All of the shit with his ex- with Moonbyul seems impossible- but you sacrificing yourself for others is not hard for Hobi to believe. That part of this is so painfully logical and so painfully you that if Hobi were less scared right now he might start crying.

You've always thought you were less valuable, less necessary, less loved by the pack. The last one in is the first one out. Hoseok knows you think this because he used to think that way too.

He wants to yell at you but instead his voice comes out soft, the way that the others used to talk to you back when you didn’t speak. Like he's comforting a startled animal. You are a startled animal.

"You used the train ticket" He swallows. It stings. Hurts like a bitch really. Every time he speaks it hurts. "I never thought you'd use it."

Hoseok puts his hand on the seat in front of you blocking you as you try and get up and out of your seat. Moving automatically to get away- to get safe. That might be all that you know how to do- keep yourself safe.

You stand there for a second, in stalemate. Blood drains from your face, and you stare each other down as Hoseok goes from devastated to angry and then sad again. Struggling not to cry. Hoseok doesn’t like to cry- it’s too much like begging. His body asking for what he can’t.

It’s quiet, you have to be quiet here. There aren’t too many people but a few rows in front of you is a pair of alpha's in suits with briefcases. Unseemly eyes could be hidden everywhere so you need to be quiet. Hoseok's voice is quiet anyway. He still can’t speak much above a whisper.

No quicker have you startled than you start to push at him, at his shoulders. Literally trying to push him out of the chair. Shaking your head. "You can't be here Hobi you have to go, they'll kill you-" You start to pull him up to his feet but he makes himself a lead weight.

“No- no I’m not going to let you go.” Hoseok cups your cheek, long fingers rubbing your tears away. The pads of his fingers cradling your cheek. Soft skin, your cheeks have always been so soft. Hobi’s brain gets caught on the sensation.

"This is how this is going to work; we're going to get off at the train station- and then with any luck- Yoongi and Jimin and Jungkook will already be there and we're going to go home, okay?" He tilts his face, trying to get a better look under your hood, lower lip wobbling, voice breaking, “You have to come home with me, okay?”

You’re trembling so hard that Hobi can feel it as he holds your face, shaking your head stubbornly.

"Hobi, if I don't go. Jimin’s going to die, you're going to die, Jin’s going to die. I can't not do something. Don't pretend one life outweighs three."

"I can't let you go."

You lean into his hand. Has Hoseok ever cupped your cheek before or is the first time he's touched you this way? He can't remember. There are so many firsts that he can't remember. So many firsts that haven't happened yet. Slipping through his fingers like water.

"And I can't let you die."

Hoseok holds your cheeks, thumbs skimming up and down your cheekbones, a little more hollow than usual. These last few days have stretched all of you thin and honest. The truth does not feed you, like subsiding off of air. This truth is not one that he wants to share but-

Yoongi had looked a little shocked when he’d told him, that kind of shock that sort of feels vindicating- like you matter. Hoseok doesn't understand why Moonbyul being his ex matters. But Yoongi's reaction makes him think it is.

The light fills the train car honey golden slipping away to the clean brightness of a winter day. The light flashing through the trees like some sort of strobe light, flickering across both of you here- at the back of the train where there is no one to overhear.

Hoseok pulls himself closer to you, his lips brushing your ear. "I never told you- the name of my old pack omega but I think you know her.”

The train hisses and shrieks and your hand settles over Hoseok’s bruised wrist.

“I think you know her very very well because Yoongi said you do."

Hoseok pulls you flush against him, across the seat, your foot hitting his ankle, and whispers it into your ear.

"Her name was Moon Byul-yi."

You freeze in his hold, trembling, and he pulls away to watch the visceral realization dawn on your face. You're smart. The Moonbyul he knew would have never thought to anticipate that either of you was smart. Haughty and superior to the last inch. She’d have assumed that she had the upper hand like all narcissists do. Why would prey know anything about the hunt?

You panic, your conviction is slipping away, Hoseok can see you’re struggling to hold onto it. “Hoseok- you don’t understand, I have to do this, I need to.”

He takes your hand in his. “Okay- if you want to go then I’m coming with you.”

“Hoseok.”

He shakes his head and brings the back of your hand up to his mouth to run his lips along your knuckles. Gripping it tight. Your bones and his bones all aligned, the sunburn on the back of his hands that’s always sort of there from driving and the faint scars that line your hands from cooking. Both self-inflicted and accidental.

(Love is that way too, either something that you seek out or something that happens to you. You are the best thing that’s ever happened to Hoseok, you could never be the worst).

There is one scar at the bottom of your hand and the bottom of his; a line across his right palm and a line across your left one- both gotten the night that you tried to take the train. You didn’t take the train then but you’ve taken it now.

You’ve made your choice and Hoseok makes his. “Either together or not at all.”

Hoseok rationalizes it by thinking- If you were going back to Geumjae and if he was still alive, you’d never let him walk into his clutches. You would never let Geumjae lay a hand on him, so he won’t let you go to her. Will do everything in his power to get you off of this fucking train.

“I’m sorry, Hobi- I’m-”

He pulls himself closer to you. Lips touching your temple just like the sunlight. Your warm thigh pressed to his warm thigh.

“You have nothing to apologize for. Nothing to make up for. If we want to survive this then we need to do it together.” Hoseok presses a kiss to your hairline and lets it linger there. “I won't haunt you if you won't haunt me."

“You don’t understand-“

“Why? Why do you have to be the one? If you can answer me that honestly and in a way that makes sense, then I’ll let you go.” Hoseok says the words as he drags his nose across your hairline in a small scent mark. A growl rolling in his throat. His hand itching towards the back of your neck- if he were able to scruff you- he could drag you off this train with or without your say-so.

Hoseok won't do that to you unless it's absolutely necessary. He won't scruff you maliciously but honestly, he'd damn the consequences at this point. You know the risks, and yet you let his hand settle on the back of your neck. He doesn't scruff you yet.

You are on the train now, but you could get off of it. Hoseok managed to convince you once he can convince you again. You do not respond to him, but he doesn’t need you to. He continues on word vomiting out his feelings. Drenched half in panic and half in fear that if he stops talking you’ll tell him something heartbreaking. Hoseok can’t handle any more heartbreak today.

"I know you’ve been in a lot of pain. I’ve known it since the first day I met you. But this self-sabotage- sacrificing yourself because you think your life isn't worth risking the rest of ours- this isn’t the way to do it. This isn’t the way that you get out.”

This is the question that you’ve been asking the whole time he’s known you. All of this is just trying to get out of the holes that you dig for yourself. The graves that you haunt. Graves of things that might have been and the things that should or shouldn’t have happened to you.

Your voice is so small and quiet, your palm in his tightens just a little bit. “How do I? How do I get out?”

"You can start by just getting off this fucking train."

You eye him like you think it’s impossible like it can’t possibly be that easy.

The announcer overhead is telling you you’re almost to the next stop. To mind the gap and such. The same way people mind children and precious objects. Mind the gap. Such a strange turn of phrase. How do you treasure the space between one motion ending and the other beginning? The end of one place and time and the beginning of another.

“How do I do it? How do I-”

Hoseok laces his hand with yours again and pulls you up onto your feet. The train is slowing. “I’ll show you just- follow me. I’ve got you.”

I’ve got you.

You do follow Hobi, you follow Hobi off the train as he coxes you softly onto the platform and onto the frosty tracks. It’s mid morning by now and the sun is streaming in that bright yellow way when he tugs you up the stairs slow. Slow because he still has to. His body aches from yesterday. Both of you are bruised and tired but together. Clinging to each other- his hand and your hand and not a breath of space between.

In the parking lot, there is a red car double parked across the lines closest to the stairs. Jimin and Yoongi and Jungkook are already standing outside, the doors blown open. Jimin falls into a squat the second he sees you. Head in his hands. Running through his hair and tugging. A cigarette discarded on the concrete bouncing before it rolls to a stop and burns.

“Oh thank fucking god, Tae would have fucking killed me-”

Jungkook groans and rests his head on the hood of the car, hitting it with an open-palmed slap. It echoes in the empty parking lot.

"That sentence is substantially less funny today than it would have been yesterday.”

Yoongi is just staring at you fists and shoulders tight. You watch him swell the closer that you walk. Every step made in trepidation. He's breathing heavy, eyes wild with panic and anger and his hair stands on end. His eyes are bloodshot and his scent is almost acidly salty. The kind of salt that guides metal to rust and break. The salt that melts cities. That crunches under your feet next to dark puddles from snowmelt.

When you're 3 paces away he seems to break, stalking up to you and jabbing a finger in your face. “If you ever pull a stunt like that again I swear I’ll-” Yoongi breaks himself off. Shaking so viscerally that it's hard for you to keep your hands by your side. but you stand your ground as Hoseok swats yoongi's jabbed finger away. his other hand tightly laced with yours.

“Yoongi, let’s just get into the car and go home- please. Let's not talk about this here.” The parking lot is mostly empty, but the danger still lingers. There’s too much to talk about. Moonbyul's name rings in Hoseok's ears like the subtle hum of hearing loss, like a high-pitched shriek. There are things more important than Yoongi's anger.

But Yoongi’s not done with you- oh- he’s boiling with rage. Shaking with it as he opens the door for you, every action, every little moment restrained. His anger is palpable. You get into the back of the Lamborghini and Hobi follows.

You can tell he wants to slam the door but doesn't. He shuts it extra extra soft but you flinch anyway. He gets into the driver's seat every moment controlled but tense, like he'll explode if he moves with any more energy than necessary, a firework with a fuse burned all the way down just begging for heat.

Yoongi waits for everyone to buckle their seat belt but you don’t, frozen watching him in the window and then the rearview mirror when he gets into the front seat. Yoongi doesn’t even get around to starting the car. Sliding the key home but the beep goes once, twice, and then a third time because you don't have your seatbelt buckled. The others wait in silence.

“Yoongi-“

“Fuck!” He kicks open his door again with a stream of spat explicatives. Slamming it shut this time. The others don't say anything, completely silent in the face of his anger.

Yoongi doesn't get angry. You've never seen him like this before. He wrenches your door open and for a horrible moment, you think he's going to yank you out of the car and tell you to get lost.

Yoongi's murmuring things to himself, so low that you almost can't make out what he's saying as he pushes himself into the backseat. The backseat of the Lambo isn’t that large. Hardly big enough to fit two people let alone four.

Jungkook lets out a belated “Hey!” at being squished up against the door but Hoseok just reaches around him and unlocks it for him to get out. Jimin is already out of the passenger seat and heading in the direction of the driver's side as Yoongi scrambles with your seat belt, jerking it over your shoulder and slamming it home.

"-Fucking asshole- of all the stupid omegas in the world I had to be mated to the fucking- dumbest- little- fucking-" The belt digs into your shoulder extra tight and Jimin starts the car wordlessly.

You're closed in on both sides by him and Hobi on the other. They switch and shuffle. Jimin pulls away from the train station, gentler this time but still faster and with more finesse than you'd do it. Yoongi is still looking at you, glaring, tears in his eyes with wet cheeks, his voice low and uncompromising.

“Give me your phone.”

“My what?”

“Your. Phone. You used it to call her didn’t you?” You nod after a second, slowly pulling it from your sweatshirt pocket and handing it over.

Yoongi takes your phone and breaks it over his thigh.

It’s a bit impressive really- the show of strength. He brings it down once and the screen breaks, winking out like a shooting star. Another and it bends just a little, a third time- and it's practically at a right angle. It breaks so easily in the face of adrenaline and anger and fear.

You make a small noise, not a whimper but a descending sound. Yoongi raises his eyebrows at you, wild. Like he’ll break even further if you complain. Hoseok’s not sure he’s ever seen Yoongi this broken.

"Just- There were pictures of Noodle and Tae on there.”

Fear and anger are an intoxicating mix to anyone- let alone someone who almost lost their person. He goes at your phone until its jagged edge bites into his hand drawing blood. Then he tosses both pieces of your phone onto the floor of the car like they're paperweights.

One of the pieces hits your shoe with a small metal clink, and even Hobi looks down in surprise at the sound.

Yoongi laughs and then bends over. Yanking the gun out of your boot. Small, shoved there. Hoseok didn’t notice. He's not sure why it surprises him- that you'd be armed. You're not an idiot, you know the risks, and you were armed the last time that you tried to run away.

He holds it out to you, long fingers wrapped around the barrel pointed at his chest. The handle facing you, the barrel of the gun level with his heart.

“You want to do the honors sweetheart?"

Jungkook’s worrying away at his lower lip, turning around, nervous. “Yoongi-" but Yoongi just holds a finger out, cutting him off. He's watching you, waiting to see what you'll do.

Jimin very gently reaches back and takes the gun from Yoongi. The beta lets him. Jimin flicks the safety off with a twitch of his thumb. And takes out the magazine one-handed that he hands to Jungkook before he puts the body of the gun barrel down in the cup holder where it rattles freely.

“Don’t fucking do that. we do not point guns at ourselves or each other in this pack.”

Yoongi hardly looks mad, he hardly reacts to Jimin at all. Jungkook's eyes flicker nervously from Jimin to Yoongi, then to Jimin's shoulder.

Jimin's flush sits on the top of his cheekbones, "Jin-hyung gets a pass obviously."

You quirk an eyebrow at your mate, not impressed in the slightest, not even intimidated truly. Hoseok doesn’t think you’ve fought since you tried to leave the first time.

“You didn’t really expect me to go unarmed, did you? Thought I could at least take one of them out- at least Moonbyul before they-” Jimin breathes hard through his teeth and Hoseok actually laughs, although he sounds a little unhinged. Yoongi runs his hands through his hair, pulling a little.

“I didn’t expect you to fucking leave me either but here we fucking are.” Yoongi has never raised his voice with you- he never raises his voice period. But anger and terror have made his words sloppy where usually they strike exact.

In the mirror, you see Jungkook’s jaw clench as Jimin accelerates home a little faster. Yoongi crowds you against Hoseok. Resting his forehead against yours, you can hear the grit in his teeth as he grinds them together nearly spitting, but it’s quiet.

“If you try something like that again, you will see a side of me that I do not want to show you. Do you understand?”

That makes you unnerved, and makes your lower lip start to tremble. Your “Yes.” Comes out so quiet that Hoseok is sure Jimin and Jungkook can't hear it in the front seat over the Lambo's purr.

You’re unable to meet his eyes, Yoongi has never been rough with you, but he’s shaking with the effort to hold himself back from screaming, yelling, crying. There are no words for you, no words that he could ever say that might hold you. He is so angry he can’t even fucking speak.

For a terrible moment, you think that he's going to hit the seat in front of you. But then he tucks your hair behind your ear out of your face so that he can look at you properly.

This is Yoongi's karma for leaving the pack all those months ago. He's come to know their pain so keenly, this was only a few hours of what they endured but still- this is exactly like that.

“You know- I’ve never wondered if you need me, but sometimes I wonder if you love me at all.”

His hand slides down your cheek, gentle in the way that he goes, and it hurts so much more than a slap or punch ever would. It stings. Everywhere Yoongi touches you stings.

“I know you don’t love me the way that I love you- I’m not that dumb, but-"

Your face screws into a whimper, and you can't whisper out that you're sorry quick enough. Yoongi guides your forehead back to rest against his. Still angry, still spitting the words like they take something from him. You should deny what he says and you want to, but you’re mute in the face of your mate's anger. "How many hours do you think will exist between your death and mine?” You’re silent as Jimin drives, but his eyes meet yours in the rearview mirror. You don’t see any pity in his eyes maybe because Yoongi, like you, had nearly left them broken. Had actually left and stayed gone. Yoongi will never quite deserve pity for words like those. Yoongi directs your face away from Jimin and back to his.

“How many god damn it!” He grips your cheeks, gentle, fingers that touch so softly, that cradle you, shaking all the while.

“Five? Ten? Sweetheart- I'd last 5 minutes without you and you won't even look at me long enough to apologize and you don't make it easy- I don't-

"Yoongi. That is enough."

Jimin is steely. Cutting him off before Yoongi can say something that he regrets and that he doesn't mean. But Yoongi won’t continue anyway. He's crying so hard he can’t see your face, can’t even see the way that you crumple.

He rests his forehead on your shoulder for the remainder of the drive. Pushing away your hands every time you try and wrap them around him until you’re crying with how frustrated you are. Keeping that one point of contact only, his crumpled face pressed against your mating mark.

He doesn’t want your touch- the touch of someone who hurt him. This is the first time that Yoongi has denied you something so simple, something so habitual as your arms around his shoulders.

Your pleas fall on deaf ears, your words come too late. "I'm sorry, i'm so sorry Yoongi I didn't mean- please believe me- I didn't- Please i'm so sorry-"

It’s a pity isn’t it; someone always has to love the other more. This is the oldest story, and there is no other story. Karma comes just in time or not at all. But right now? Right now it does not feel nice being Yoongi’s karma for leaving the pack all those months ago.

The car ride is mostly silent for the rest of the drive. The car has barely stopped when Yoongi scrambles to get out. The car door flings open with the momentum of Jimin stopping. The hood is hot when he skims his fingers across it steadying himself to round it and dash inside.

Your hands shake too hard to unbuckle yourself as Yoongi hurries, he almost runs. Hoseok gets out of the car, shouting "Yoongi!" but your mate doesn't turn around, doesn't do anything but barrel past the others. Pushing away their worried questions and hands to get inside the house.

The bindings on your hands are already bleeding a little bit, your hands chubby and swollen, and unable to see the seat buckle as you claw at it.

A warm chest hits the side of your face as strong arms reach around you. Jungkook unbuckles you, close and filling the backseat in Yoongi's absence. He holds you for a second, giving you a squeeze and a sideways hug. "Just give him a second it’s gonna be alright."

You stare at Jungkook for a second. Wiping your tears away with a curled fist. He looks tired. “I mean you’re literally his mate so- it's not like he can really...” Jungkook trails off, and the keys jingle in Jimin's hands as he waits. mute and unreadable, staring at the steps where tae stands with Jin and Namjoon.

"Aren't you guys going to yell at me too?" Jungkook snorts, and when you pull back to look at his face, he doesn't look angry, he doesn't even look tired.

"That wouldn't solve anything." Your face crumples further, but Jungkook just starts to pull you to the edge of the leather seat to hug you better under the guise of firmly setting you on your feet.

"What I am gonna do is make you go work out with me. I'm gonna make you do like- so many burpees in punishment for making me run that early in the morning."

You laugh wetly and Jungkook giggles, nuzzling the top of your head. Gripping around your waist to pick you up just a little.

Jin looks just as puffed up as Yoongi but so much less angry, wrapped in your big blue blanket like a cape, a corner pulled over his head and ears like a hood, his fluffy bunny slippers poking out below.

The wooden planks of the deck have dried in the winter sunlight and Tae is barefoot where she stands, silk robe too thin for the winter chill. looking at you with that same hollow look she’s had for the last day.

Jin doesn’t try to grab Yoongi as he stalks past. Namjoon sends a conflicted glance at him and then at you. His shoulders are pinned up by his ears, the scraggly five o'clock shadow he wears looks tear tacky. He looks at you for a single second but then heads into the house after your mate. You blanch, but you're not surprised that Namjoon needs a second before he talks to you too.

The pervasive sound of wrenching can be heard echoing out into the porch, and a look inside says that Namjoon’s got a hand on Yoongi's back where he's bent over the sink. Throwing up nothing because your mate had hardly eaten last night- worried about you and Hobi. You've never felt more undeserving of him, the guilt hits you harder than any words ever could.

You swallow at the bottom of the steps. Hoseok and Jungkook and Jimin behind you, hand on the small of your back urging you forward gently. Willing to let you stray more than a few steps away after chasing you down.

Jin is extra tall and on the upper step, looking down at you with an unreadable expression on his face, he places a hand over the back of your neck scruffing you smoothly and evenly until you almost fall, knees already shaky. Jungkook steps up and grabs you before you hit the floor. But Jin just stoops. Lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“When this is over, when everyone is safe, we’re going to have a long long talk about this. About why pups don’t make decisions on their own. Give me your phone.”

You can hear Jimin’s grimace in his voice, “Yoongi already broke it.”

“Are you angry with me?” You ask lower lip wobbling, tears drifting down your nose, “Please don’t be angry with me- please-” Jin squeezes the nape of your neck again, harder. You see sparkles in your vision- your body compensating for Jin's touch even though you're so tired you feel like you might pass out. You easily submit to the scruff, you'll do anything Jin asks right now just to temper his disappointment.

Hoseok grabs under your elbows to keep you standing. Between him and Jin and Jungkook- you’re a soggy little bundle of omegas. You don’t see it, but from the railing, Tae cups Jimin’s cheek.

Jin croons. “Hush pup. Come inside where it's warm. We've got a lot to talk about- mostly what we can do besides make rash decisions like that."

Hoseok's hand is on Jin's wrist before he has a chance to continue. Eyes bright with something that looks an awful lot like hope.

"About that..." Hoseok gulps, “We think we figured out how to get out of this Jinnie. I have to talk to Yoongi about it again but-” Jin tugs Hoseok onto his other shoulder.

“I think we’ve figured a way out of this.”

You sniffle where you're tucked against Jin's chest, but you’re right next to his scent gland when it swells with pride, sweet and milky. Jin runs the back of his hand softly over Hoseok's warm cheeks, and croons.

“Good puppy.”

~-~

The next time you call Moonbyul, you’re all sitting around the dining room table. The blinds are drawn and Noodle has been fed. Jimin’s collection of guns lay on the table in several neat little rows, the barrels of them pointed in the same direction like the legs of some long-dead arachnid.

A list of demands and a dialogue are written out in front of you but they're not for you. Jin and Yoongi will be doing most of the talking. You've done nothing for the last hour it took to hatch the plan other than sit obediently at the reach of your alphas. Willing to trade little 'I'm sorries' and the barest attempt at teasing after you'd gotten up to get a glass of water and they'd all flinched. Jimin had even gotten up and out of his chair before shaking his head and sitting back down. instincts reacting to your movement before his brain caught up.

"Would it make you feel better if you put me in handcuffs?"

"Only if they're the fuzzy ones."

"Jk- now is not the time.”

All in all, Jungkook and Hobi seem to be the ones who are the least angry at you for trying to pull that stunt. Jimin's just a little more tactile with you than usual pulling you to sit close to him at the table. rubbing over your knee. Fiddling with your hands and gently avoiding the wounds there.

Namjoon still can't look at you, eyes flickering away every time you speak. Not angry- but maybe still upset- still working through his feelings.

There are more important things to work through; the plan, the facts of what you know, a list with numbers sit next to your dialogue. The facts of everything connected with arrows and different handwriting and a good bit of doodles- courtesy of Jungkook and Tae (and you- when she'd prodded).

Your list goes like this:

Moonbyul is not an alpha (verified by Hobi) (ew it's so gross to think of you with another omega hyung)

Only an alpha can rule the family. (That's a little sexist) (I didn't write the rules Tae)

LEVERAGE.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ (JK- stop doodling on official FBI documents.)

Yoongi hasn't spoken a word to you since he came inside the house and you don't expect him to right now. That’s hardly the most important matter at hand. Baby steps.

Baby steps.

You call her with Jimin’s work burner. The one he keeps in his car and uses exclusively for instructions about which murder and which target needs to be taken out. Moonbyul answers on the first ring and guesses it’s you before you even have a chance to speak. The others had unanimously decided that you wouldn't be speaking for this conversation. You don't mind sitting back for this.

Whatever makes them happy, whatever makes them feel better.

Her voice strikes a chill down your spine, now that you know that she's the one who hurt Hobi. It's her he sees behind his eyes on his worst days and it's her voice he hears when his internal monologue becomes vicious and self-shaming. You hear it differently than you did before; a cross between a snake's hiss and the purr of some dark-furred jungle cat.

“Any much longer and you’re going to be late pup, you know how impatient I can be.”

It's surprisingly difficult to not give her a piece of your mind. Your hands tighten into fists, your bones and skin all tight where you'd hurt your hands. But before your knuckles can even go white a big hand covers yours, prying your fingers apart so that your fingernails don't dig into the gauze, still bloody. You look up at Namjoon. He shakes his head, just a little, and you relax your hands.

Yoongi leans over the table so that his voice comes across clearer over the speakerphone.

“I think you’ll want to be patient for this alpha- or should I say omega.”

Hoseok holds the edge of the table hard, leaning in too. He's sure the hitch of his breath must be audible over the phone. But Moonbyul doesn't remark on it. Jin’s hand remains settled on the nape of his neck and you wish you were sitting next to him too.

Yoongi scoots himself closer to the edge of the table. On the side opposite from you. “The claws of an alpha don’t suit you, cousin.”

Moonbyul laughs and none of you smile. The tone of her voice shifts, a bit more serious. “They fit me better than they'd fit you. Let me see how deep your bite is or should I ask Hoseok? Is that pup there? How about Minnie and mommy?”

Tae folds her hands over her chest, affronted, but doesn't speak either. Your hand goes hard on Namjoon's wrist and he grips yours back just as hard. Holding out his hand for Hobi's across the table.

You open your mouth to retaliate- for the comment on Tae alone (you're not sure how Moonbyul found out about your nickname for her) but Jimin mouths across the table, “Don’t” You're all silent, waiting for her next move.

Jin's FBI training kicks in. Negotiation and kidnappings had been a course he'd been required to take during his orientation to the fbi. and his voice is measured and polite.

"I think we're past the point of petty jabs and assassin's, aren't we? Let's talk, pack omega to pack omega."

“You want to parley then? Make a deal?”

Jin drums his hands across the table. Nervous but his voice doesn't shake, not even a little bit.

“This has gone on for long enough. Let’s meet.”

~-~ Moonbyul comes in with the quiet.

The hours drag on in the space before she arrives at the house. The pack perks up in the direction of every errant sound or neighbor in your cul-de-sac. The sound of the little kids across the street leaving for Saturday morning sports, of the dull scape of someone shoveling out their driveway, the rumbling of distant cars on the highway.

It’s a Sunday, isn’t it? Strange, that this kind of thing should happen on a Sunday. Jimin stares out at the driveway, leaning against the railing, and thinks it must be some sort of punishment both wretched and divine. He smokes his cigarette, spitting the smoke out like he's burning, and shakes off the shivers of a god he doesn't believe in.

He finishes his cigarette, then he and the others and ready the house for Moonbyul’s arrival.

Hobi feels every tick of the clock like the beat of his heart knowing that she’s on her way. She’d started driving after Jimin had shown her a video of his guns being thrown into the river. A meeting without any weapons will be as safe as anyone can get.

But still- the pack isn't stupid. Hobi watches from the kitchen as Jin tapes the pack’s sharpest and largest kitchen knife under the kitchen table in front of his seat as well as Jimin’s and Yoongi’s just in case.

Allowing her inside the den goes against every instinct. To have their softest most safe place violated by the presence of someone who has hurt them like this. It's almost too much. But to have the upper hand and have this meeting on their turf is more than they’ve hoped for. So Namjoon restrains his growls, hand still held in yours at the table. After a tangle of so many hours and days of all this violence, the pack takes their chances for a way out.

You'd discussed the meeting happening at the house before you'd even called and agreed. Talked it out between the eight of you the idea location for any meet up. Only Namjoon was against it- but he's been overruled by Jin and Yoongi.

You’d remained mostly silent and agreed with Yoongi when it came to a vote. Warm big eyes on him, waiting for a hint of approval that never came. Jimin thinks that wound is going to take more than simple obedience to heal.

Yoongi doesn’t know what to think, or what to do. Jin and Jimin take over most of the planning as far as what’s going to be said and how. Everything needs to be carefully orchestrated for this to not go poorly. Everyone needs to be on their best behavior.

But there is hope here, on the edge of their scheming is a plan that might work- this might really work. You all might get out of this unscathed. Even Yoongi who’s never taken a simple breath outside of this life of murder and secrets. Who has had this violence built into his blood from the moment he was born. Yoongi was born a liar. Yoongi always thought that he'd live and die belonging to his family- at the will of their beck and call.

Now he's not so sure.

He feels like he’s hyper-aware of you, in your orbit the way an addict is always aware of how little or lot is left of a drug. Every twitch and movement of your body sets him on edge. But when you’re not watching- Yoongi watches you. Tensing with every step you take in the direction of the door, heaving a thankful sigh whenever you pass by it.

He tries not to touch you but it’s hard. He’d taken your shoes and locked them in the closet upstairs, it's silly but it's necessary.

His pulse is still beating so fast that it scares him a little. The mating mark at his hip aches with every step, he wonders if yours aches with every word or breath. Pressed there against your throat where he'd kissed countless times, where he'd nuzzled sleeplessly just last night. Breathing in your scent because it soothed him.

It still soothes him, even if he doesn't want it to.

Yoongi spends every few minutes bent over the kitchen sink or the toilet, the revulsion curling up in his gut like a snake dragging its teeth down the sides of his heart. You’d left him again, actually left him again. Yoongi wants to scream and cry but-

But there are moments of you saying you’re sorry- to Tae, to Jimin, and Jungkook- who stubbornly wraps his arms around your back like a living blanket and makes you stoop forward with his weight. Or Jimin who rubs his chin across the top of your head and jostles you with the aggressiveness of his scent mark, catching your wrists in both of his hands roughly in a way that almost- almost has Yoongi intervening. He's just clumsy and tired.

All of you are.

There are other moments of Jin lingering close, speaking to you in the soft stern way that has you deflating that makes Yoongi’s body hum in that mate way- that way that lets him know you need him.

Namjoon hasn't changed the bandages on your hands yet, even though there's a tiny bit of blood on your right one. Yoongi wants to ask him to change it out but can't make his mouth form the words.

Hobi watches you from wear he rests against the couch, pointedly not sitting on the spot that Jin cleaned of blood. Holding a bit of ice to his throat and sipping on water. Able to talk now- for real. Voice strengthening with every minute.

Yoongi pauses by his side and asks, loud enough for you to overhear "aren't you angry?" Hoseok doesn't miss the way your shoulders tense. You’re looking over things and talking with Jin and Jimin, clarifying something- some rules about the family that only you and Yoongi know of. There are documents on the table with the title FBI property- do not reproduce or take off premises.

He tips his head back against the back of the couch, Hoseok’s legs sprawled out, aching from running so hard and so fast and being so out of practice with it. Fuck- Hoseok is so tired. So anxious and so keyed up by the knowledge that Moonbyul will be here within the next hour. He yawns in Yoongi’s face without covering his mouth. His stretched lips full of teeth teeth teeth.

Yoongi feels his anger quiet even before Hoseok shrugs. "i don't know if my anger would make it better. i care more about making sure we all get to wake up tomorrow without feeling like shit"

Jungkook echoes the same sentiment on his way past. “Same like- I cannot wait to nest” And Jimin nods, blonde hair fluffing. Even namjoon's subtle agreement as he does the dishes makes yoongi feel...Not better...but maybe a little less angry.

Namjoon does the dishes, but you're his close shadow. They could wait- but Namjoon needs something to do with his hands besides holding onto yours. You still haven’t talked at all, and haven't apologized verbally to him for that phone call. He wants a wide birth and you give it to him.

Survival first- and apologies and forgiveness later.

"I think motive counts for something too," Hoseok says, looking at you across the room helping Namjoon stack dishes without being asked. "You didn't mean to hurt us when you left, but you felt like you had to." Yoongi swallows hard and feels like he's the one who's been choked in the last 48 hours.

If there’s one thing Yoongi hates, it’s how love makes you forgive. (Yoongi wouldn’t be standing in this house right now with the pack if love wasn’t this way). You could hurt me and I’d ask for it, beg for it really, as long as I’m still yours. As long as you stay.

At the beginning, the fact that Yoongi loved you more always hurt the pack, Jin especially. But watching Yoongi’s eyes follow your movements as you're asked to do some small remedial task to appease the pack, watching you do it with so much sweet eagerness. the pack find that they're thankful for it.

You say you’re sorry to anyone who will listen. And Jungkook's endless replies of "it's okay" make Yoongi's ears itch in the interim.

The moments and minutes stretch out long.

But about an hour before Moonbyul is due to arrive, in the quiet panic of making sure things are ready and just waiting, Jin tries to convince you to go upstairs for the entirety of your meeting. But as much as the pack doesn't want to admit it you might be the best at getting what you want from Moonbyul. They're prepared for you to be a little bratty about it, to push back a little regardless of the circumstances.

What they're not prepared for is Hoseok standing up in the center of the room, setting his icepack on the couch with a small crunch, before he says “I want to see her again.”

It's met with an immediate rejection, and a barrage of questions from the other alpha's, Jimin and Namjoon especially have their hackles raised. Yoongi actually checks his ears to see if they're bleeding. Jin quite literally grabs Hobi and shakes him a little. But he’s convinced that he needs too. He’s got questions for her that no one else can answer.

You had been the one person who had agreed with him. Some questions can only be answered by the person who hurt you.

Moonbyul isn’t stupid- she won’t walk into your den without a few face cards in her hands. You won’t let her come here without a card up your sleeve either. But aces are aces- a royal flush will beat 4 aces every time, and it’s up to you who wears the crown.

You watch the pack put on the air of royalty. Watch Namjoon recline at the head of the table the picture of Pack alpha ease. Scent blockers are applied to all of you liberally out of necessity. You rub it into Hobi’s scent gland yourself (You won’t let Moonbyul get a wif of him).

You watch your mate settle into his shoulders; neck held high. Putting on the same Placid but brutal he'd worn the first time you'd met him. That untouchable coldness that all members of the family wear out of necessity.

But Yoongi had never been good enough at keeping the warmth out of his eyes. Even back then.

Moonbyul comes in a black car, non-descript. She's driving herself today. No extra ears or extra packmates attached to her hip. Even Hyejin is absent and it’s strange, strange to not see her get out of the car with her.

It sets you off kilter when you peer out the window. Lingering until Yoongi comes close. Your breath hitches as his hands touch your shoulders. Urging you upstairs without a word, an unspoken heaviness in his eyes.

Regardless of what you'd agreed, now that she's here. yoongi doesn't think he can do this if you're not upstairs safe.

“But Yoongi- Hobi-“ Hobi stands by the door. If he's going to talk to her you want to be by his side. But Yoongi's scared, you can see it in his face and feel it in the mating mark.

You think you'll have a few more moments to sort this out, but Moonbyul does not knock on your door, she just lets herself in.

“Cousin!” she starts, splaying her hands like she’s about to go in for a hug but Yoongi does not smile, Yoongi does nothing but glare at her until her smile and her hands both drop.

Seeing Moonbyul again after so long does not feel like just seeing her photograph. For a second Hoseok feels cold, so so cold looking at her face. Her fair skin, her silver hair. Tunnel vision and the most dizzying mix of fear and anger and alpha posturing that he’s ever felt. His instincts yell at him, screaming in his ear that he needs to run, needs to get away.

She smells different, metallic and medicinal, different than her sweet omega peppermint smell that he remembers. It's stronger now- more musky. the scent of an alpha and not an omega. Hoseok wouldn't be able to pinpoint that it was an artificial change if he hadn't smelled the same sort of hormone shift on Tae.

He’s distantly aware that there are people in between him and her, you, Yoongi, Jimin, Namjoon, and even Jungkook who fluffs up, looking determined and like he’s about to unleash all 5 years of experience he has teaching kickboxing on her. (Tae stays at the back of the room- the soft and delicate fairy star child that she is- but even she subtly stands straighter, eyeing Moonbyul’s stiff black coat with the same air that Anna Wintour might wear while viewing a subpar fashion show).

6 feet away and every bit of his instincts is yelling at him to move, to run. His heart thunders in his ears like a battalion of racehorses. How stupid of him to think he was ready- that seeing her face after all these years wouldn’t hurt- that the fear wouldn’t be there- his breath hitches and-

She grins at him and Hoseok flinches.

In his peripheries, he sees Namjoon and Jimin start to say or do something. Hoseok had put himself- almost perfunctorily in front of you. But after a second with your hand on his wrist tightening, you put yourself between him and her. Stepping around him and Yoongi in one clean movement and blocking his face from view. Moonbyul just raises her eyebrows at you. Before anything more can happen- before any jabs or warnings can be exchanged, a grey mass skitters across the floor. As quick as a bullet and twice as violent. Out for blood and the bringer of death.

Puffed up and looking large and menacing. Noodle yowls loud, a war cry, before driving his needle-like teeth into Moonbyul's ankle and right through the leather of her Louis Vuitton boots, ripping them with a vicious toss of his neck.

“What the fuck-“

Moonbyul startles, knocking into the wall in her surprise at your cat's viciousness. She hardly wastes a breath before she kicks Noodle clear across the floor.

You gasp and Tae makes a noise. But Noodle is totally fine, He goes hissing and spluttering, and claws his way right back for more not deterred in the slightest. He leaves gash marks on the shiny floor as he aims himself, back to bite her again.

You have no doubt that he’d be headed for bloodshed and her other ankle if Yoongi didn’t scoop him up from the floor and hold him to his chest. Honestly- Noodle looks more surprised at Yoongi holding him than he does about getting kicked.

“If you touch my fucking cat again, I’ll fucking kill you." Yoongi's deadly serious. No part of him joking as he says it.

It's barely 60 seconds in and this meeting is already going to shit.

Namjoon steps up and steps around Yoongi’s shoulder shoving the beta behind him as Noodle starts to squirm in Yoongi's hold. “Please, lets just get this over with.” He tips his head and gestures to the dining room table for her to sit.

Tae takes Noodle from Yoongi’s arms. Checking his stomach. Glaring at Moonbyul who does not grin, does not smile, only tucks an errant hair behind her ear.

The sound of chair legs scraping the floor is the only sound as the 9 of you sit in silence. Noodle stays in Tae’s lap, big tail swishing as his beady yellow eyes track Moonbyul across the room. Everyone’s silent, settling. Yoongi and Jimin are the ones seated closest to Moonbyul. You and Hobi are the farthest by Namjoon on the other side.

“Well- you’re the one who wanted to talk.” But Moonbyul is not looking at Jin and Namjoon and Yoongi- she’s looking at Hoseok- who can do little but look at her through his bangs. Skin burning when she looks at it. A feeling like Hoseok wants to hide and maybe shower until his skin falls off almost overcoming him and making him run.

“I didn’t want to talk, I wanted to get you fucking flayed out on this kitchen table and-”

“Jimin.” Tae cuts him off with a snap of her teeth around his name. Her hand is on Hobi’s thigh, holding him still keeping his thigh from jumping up and down under the table.

“The time for violence is over,” Jin says sternly.

Moonbyul grins, “is it?” she drags a sharp nail over a groove in the table. A spot where a bullet or maybe a knife grazed it, probably from the last few days. You wouldn’t know where it came from even if you thought hard about it.

“Some would consider the very act of possessing something that’s mine violence and you have two things that belong to me.”

Hoseok shivers, and you narrowly avoid snapping a smart retort at her. Jimin’s fingers hover around the knife under the table. Ready to wip it out and drive it clean through her hand splayed on the table. Ready to kill her in the next second if the pack wish it. He’s half convinced he should do it before she opens her mouth because Hoseok looks like he’s going to be sick all over the table and Tae is shaking faintly.

But then Jimin looks up, meets your eyes, and takes his eyes off of his target for a second. You shake your head a little imperceptibly.

“Some would also consider lying violence as well- how well do you think that the rest of your family and organization would handle the fact that they’ve been lied too?”

Yoongi settles, tilting his head. Jin and Yoongi are a dangerous pair when they talk through things like this. “We both know that all I’d have to do is pick up a phone and you’d be dead. You and your pack. If you kill me- someone will tell and you'll die. If you touch my pack again- I'll tell and you'll die. And if even think about taking my mate from me again- if i start to sense that you've tried to manipulate her away from me in the slightest- I'll kill you my fucking self."

She turns to you, mirth toying at her lips, "I got away with killing the beta once, what makes you think I can't do it again?"

Jin smiles at her, it's an honest and genuine smile. "The truth is- you gave us too much time to think. Too much time to figure it out and plan. There's a trigger clause out there. On a computer you couldn't possibly find. If I don't log in every 36 hours, an email will be sent with pictures of her recipe book to the director of the FBI, and you'll go down for it." Moonbyul turns to you, narrowing her eyes, "You'd risk going to prison or being killed? Rather than be with me?"

You shrug. "You- prison- tomato tamato. And besides- I know enough- you made sure I knew enough to be useful to them. I'd probably land a sweet gig in witness protection."

Tae pets over noodles head, smiling at you, "We could call Noodle meatball."

Yoongi straightens, getting you back on track. "We'd also send pictures and evidence to the heads of house too; you'd have to take your pick who you'd want to deal with- them or the Feds." Moonbyul goes quiet and for the first time but you know you have her backed into a corner with this. This secret- this secret is truly her undoing. She fidgets, settling herself firmly into the uncomfortable chair.

And then it comes, her concession, “What do you want?”

Yoongi nearly lunges forward with how eager he is to outline your terms. “Release Jimin from his contract. Let Y/n go and relinquish the bullshit claim you have on her. Don’t punish Jin for working for the FBI and never contact me again for my responsibilities as a beta. Leave us alone- never touch us again and you can have your empire. We won’t say a word to anyone about your true sub-gender.” He lays his hands flat on the table. "But lay a finger on any one of my packmates and I'll tell everyone what you really are."

Moonbyul is a manipulator first and foremost, and a good one at that, you don’t know if it’s honesty or a simple tactic when she turns to Tae and appeals to her.

“You’d let them do this for what? One female alpha to the other?” Moonbyul’s eyes are too empty for her to be totally honest. Jungkook can’t stop his flinch. She knows what she’s doing. How to find the weak spots in your conviction and press at them.

“One trans person to another? You'd let them forcefully out me? don't you know how wrong that is?”

You physically can’t look at her, you have to look away- and Jimin looks like he wants to punch her, jaw rolling- preparing to spit before Tae splays her hands on the table, chipped nail polish catching the light.

Tae struggles to find the right words. “I don’t know if your reasons are the same as mine.”

Moonbyul scoffs, crossing her arms. The mask slips at the same second. “Sure they are. You chose to become a woman rather than stay a man because you liked the set of qualities your life could have as a woman better. That's no different from me choosing to be an alpha over an omega because it gave my pack and me the most security.”

You know, you know in your heart that security isn't what Moonbyul's after, it's always been power, but Tae's scent starts to leak around the scent blockers, going sour.

Tae sits back in her chair. “That’s the thing- it wasn’t a choice.”

Moonbyul’s fingernails are digging into her arms in an effort to keep her hands busy. “Was it? You were comfortable being a man once until the risks outweighed the benefits of not being honest with the people you love. That seems like a choice to me- if it wasn’t a choice- you’d never have had to tell anyone- they’d just have known.”

Moonbyul has always had a terrible knack for finding people's soft spots, Hoseok knows this, and yet he can't say anything. Can't come to Tae's defense. Can't scream at her to shut up- to not touch Tae. To not find the weakest link or perhaps a link she can exploit.

Tae’s hands tighten into a fist and she swallows, before standing up from the table. Noodle falls to the floor with a jingle of his bell collar and an offended meow. Tae leaves the room heading up the stairs and leaves you behind. Done with Moonbyul and the conversation, A choice in itself. You follow her, heading upstairs after Tae with not even a glance in Moonbyul’s direction.

Moonbyul laughs and laughs and laughs, it’s a little unhinged. The pack stays silent. They just watch her. Yoongi settles into his shoulders and when she leans back in the chair and tucks her hair behind her ear, she’s still smiling.

“Alright cousin, let’s draw up terms.”

The family does things in old ways, a smear of Yoongi’s blood and Moonbyul’s blood on the bottom of a slip of paper and their names ink signed. A red seal printed with both of their initials. Paper that Jin will burn up later because what’s written on it could condemn them all. She also writes up a release of Jimin’s contract too- this one does not get burned. While Jin types up his resignation too.

“I’d still laser off your fingerprints if I were you.” Jimin is already planning on it. He’s not too worried about the loss of income or the family possibly rolling on him and using his long history of murder to put him in jail. He still has his other job after all.

In the end, Moonbyul leaves not with a bang, but with the click of the closing door, soft as all can be. Violent with the gentleness of her actions when she gets up from the table and says goodbye to Yoongi and only Yoongi. But when she makes to leave, she has to pass by the stairs where you wait.

You do not speak from up on top of the stairs, where you’d gone after Tae and left after she told you she was fine, that she wanted to be alone for a moment. Now Moonbyul smiles from the bottom step. Her teeth catch the light like the pearls at the bottom of the ocean.

“I guess it was never going to be us, was it?” Her eyes flick to the mark on your neck and all at once you’re reminded of the feeling of it;

Geumjae’s teeth sink into your throat, the pulse of your veins around his teeth, the feeling of his tongue hitting your skin and the pain and shock of it. Her smiling feels like that. Her smiling up at you makes it feel like she’s taking something from you.

“There is something in you that’s hungry pup- hungry for more than they can give you. And when they realize that- when they realize that you’re more like me than like Tae- Don’t worry, I’ll be waiting for when you decide that this is not enough.”

Your finger trails down the railing of the stairs. You don’t meet her eyes. “That’s the thing isn’t it, I do get to decide, don’t I? It's my choice.”

But Hoseok is there, between you and her, and there’s no one between the two of them. Not Noodle or the others although Yoongi gets up quick and comes over to his side. Both of you hem Hobi in.

“Wait- I just have one question for you- before you go.”

Moonbyul hovers, hand on the door. Almost out of your lives for good. You keep a hand on Hobi’s back, holding him, letting him know you’re there. You can feel the tremble in his shoulders.

“Why did you do it, why did you hurt me like that when you could have just left? I’ve thought through it for years but I’ve never been able to figure it out. Did you know that you were hurting me when you did it?”

“Yes,” there isn’t a bit of remorse in her face, none at all.

Maybe Hoseok is expecting something like this- something like this: “I thought if we broke you down, we might be able to remake you into something great”

“I didn’t need to be changed I just needed you to love me.”

But there is none of that. It’s infuriating and it will bother him for years later but what Hoseok gets is this:

“There wasn’t a reason, we were just bored and waiting for my father to give me the chance to transition.” transition into power or transition into an alpha? She doesn't clarify. She’s remorseless, nothing in her inflection indicates that she regrets what she did.

“You weren’t the first.”

Hoseok feels nauseous like he's going to be sick on the entryway floor. Hobi doesn’t respond and she leaves without a second glance behind her. Out of your lives for good. Leaving Hoseok standing there in the precipice of the door, watching her pull away from the house and staring at the empty driveway after she’s gone. He'll never see her again after today.

Namjoon gets up and opens up a window, clearing the house of her smell of peppermint.

He doesn’t realize he’s crying until you dab your sleeve at his cheek. Yoongi at his front and you holding him from behind, keeping him together as he cries and cries and cries. Jimin puts himself between you two and the door, a knife that he'd tapped under the table in his hands.

Jungkook huffs. "Should have stabbed her when you had the chance Minnie."

Closure escapes him, just out of his fingers. Hoseok wants to run after her and demand an apology. But he doesn’t know what’s better, an apology that’s hollow or none at all. No one talks for a moment while they watch her car pull out of the driveway and leave. No one says a word.

And then Jin gets up from the table and walks over to the kitchen. Namjoon follows him. Tae’s at the top of the steps, she’s changed her clothes from her PJs and washed off the scent blockers. Her hair hangs shaggy and messy over her glossy face, her bangs in a curly pink roller, and her skin pearly from her skincare.

She doesn’t smell distressed or upset. She doesn’t smell like anything at all but she’s wearing her favorite pink sweater. She comes close, runs her hands through Hobi's hair.

"I'll be fine, just give me a second I just need-"

"You cry for as long as you need to ho-baby."

"Yeah- cry as much as you want, use me as a napkin for all I care." your shirt is wet at the collar where Hobi burrows in.

Jin opens up the pack's liquor cabinet. Small and just to the side of the fridge. None of them really drink- but occasionally patients give Namjoon expensive bottles of whiskey for saving their lives. Jin pours himself a full glass of the most expensive bottle of it. No ice. He pours a second glass for Yoongi without asking. It’s barely noon, but when he asks “who wants a drink?” Seven hands shoot up.

~-~

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Notes:

the very fist part of this chapter where hoseok and her are on the train was a part that i liked until final edits and then it felt??? idk??? clunky??? maybe a bit repetitive???? idk what it is and it's way too late to fix it T-T

this chapter is really an ode to what i originally thought of for bily, in the og version of this story yoongi was supposed to hate the m/c at the beginning for taking him away from the pack. i think his anger at the end is entirely justified- it's also like- his karma for leaving at the beginning you know? he might take it a bit too far in his reaction but tbh- i think we can cut him some slack for everything he's ever given to the m/c- all of the unconditional love.

i think that the train is like- a metaphor for getting better, or not getting better and keeping going on the reductive patterns that make you sick, because the things that make you feel better- like picking at a sticky scab- will only make you scar deeper. this is the last moment for the m/c, the moment she starts to heal for good.

the moment where hobi and the m/c are walking up to the car and yoongi is there i litterally see him puffing up like a studio ghibli charecter you know? or maybe like noodle whenever yoongi comes close.

honestly- the line where yoongi says that she doesn't love him like he loves her made me fucking sick when i wrote it like???? not me lowkey not giving them a happy ending. but i think that the part of bily thats always been fun to experiment with is how people sometimes people hurting you doesn't change how you feel about them.

did you catch the reasons wreched and divine refrence????

the line that yoongi says “Five? Ten? Sweetheart- I'd last ////5 minutes without you and you won't even look at me long enough too apologize and-" is very much a refrence to what hoseok says to yoongi at the begining of the series "You won’t even tell me now when I'm fucking dying over you, suffocating under the weight of things you just won’t say- and you don’t even care!” and i think thats pretty.

i think the yoongi parts will either make you guys feel vindicated or upset. i think it's up to you if he goes too far when he's angry- but i do think it's very human of him to get so angry like...the m/c is his whole fucking world...he will get over it! don't worry! he's just momentarily angry!

the part between when the pack call her and she arrifes felt really clunky while i was editing it, i decided not to take it down too much because i wanted you guys to feel some of their anticipation- but maybe it's too much. it's this kind of part that might get seriously paired down once i go back through bily and clean it up

"fuck this bitch"- noodle probably

noodle is like my favorite charecter i swear to god i love him so so much. i had the idea that he would be the only one to get some bloodletting in since the very begining of the series before he was ever written into the story. this is also the begining of them sorta being friends like- after this noodle is alot more tolerant of yoongi.

Moonbyul discloses that she has some pretty uncomfy views of being trans in this! i think it's pretty obvious that it's not meant to be like 'this is how all trans people are' and more of an effort to contrast tae- we are also talking like fake secondary genders here as well so- do with that what you will!

i also wanted to make the point with hobi and moonbyul's part at the end that sometimes the people who hurt you have no remorse, you don't get clousrure from them because they'll never admit that they shouldn't have done something. and the biggest closure that you can get is from giving yourself the strenght to let go. in a way- this directly contrasts the parts on the train in the begining. in order to heal a wound you have to stop touching it.

this chapter may feel like an ending in a sense because it is an end of all the mafia parts. truly- after this chapter we won't see any more violence or blood or anything close to the last 6. it's all happy endings from here <3 Thank you for sticking with it!

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hd-junglebook · 6 days

Text

It's Always Been You

Part 3

Previous Chapter ... Next Chapter

Word Count - 4,855

A:N this isn't exactly what I pictured for this chapter, but it goes into more detail about their feelings. Which idk about you, but I have been dying to figure out.

Y/N stepped out of the apartment building, the cold night air whipping at her face and stinging her tear-stained cheeks. She took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to compose herself as she made her way down the sidewalk, her heels clicking against the pavement.

As she approached the curb, she saw a sleek grey Mercedes parked along the street, its engine idling softly. The driver's side door opened, and a tall, handsome man stepped out, a concerned expression on his face as he hurried to greet her.

"Hi," he said, his voice warm and slightly hesitant. "Are you alright? I got scared you were gonna ditch me out here."

Y/N forced a laugh, the sound hollow and brittle to her own ears. She felt a pang of guilt at the concern in his voice. If only he knew how close she had come to canceling.

How the thought of walking back into that apartment and facing Jack again made her stomach churn with a sickening mixture of heartbreak and humiliation.

She swallowed hard, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over once again.

But she couldn't bring herself to do it, couldn't bear the thought of spending another night alone in her room, crying herself to sleep over a man who would never love her the way she wanted him to.

So instead, she pasted on a smile, straightening her shoulders with false bravado, hoping that the dim streetlights would hide the redness of her eyes and the tremor in her hands.

"No, no, I wouldn't do that," she said, her voice falsely bright. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, a nervous habit.

"I'm sorry if I kept you waiting. I just had a little trouble finding my keys." The lie tasted bitter on her tongue.

Liam studied her face for a moment, his blue eyes searching hers. His brow furrowed with concern. "Are you sure? You look upset." He reached out tentatively, his fingertips grazing her arm in a comforting gesture.

Y/n hesitated, chewing on her lower lip as she debated whether to tell him the truth. She had only matched with Liam a while ago, and the last thing she wanted was to burden him with her problems.

But there was something about his gentle, caring demeanor that made her feel safe and understood. She met his gaze, seeing only kindness and warmth reflected back at her.

"It's nothing," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. She averted her gaze, focusing on a crack in the sidewalk. "Me and my roommate just had a disagreement. Happens all the time." The words felt flimsy, a poor attempt to downplay the depth of her pain.

Liam's expression softened, and he reached out to take her hand in his. His touch was warm and comforting, a stark contrast to the icy cold that surrounded them.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I hope tonight makes you feel better." He gave her hand a gentle squeeze, his thumb brushing over her knuckles in a soothing gesture.

Y/N nodded, blinking back fresh tears. She drew in a shaky breath, trying to compose herself. "I'm sure it will Liam." She managed a small, grateful smile, hoping it reached her eyes.

The man smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he held out his hand to her. "No worries," he said, his voice warm and reassuring.

"I'm just glad you're here. I've been looking forward to this all week." His excitement was palpable, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.

Y/N felt a flicker of warmth in her chest at his words, a tiny spark of hope that maybe, just maybe, this night wouldn't be a complete disaster.

She hesitated for a brief moment before placing her hand in his, letting him help her into the car, the leather seats cool and smooth against her bare legs. The simple chivalrous gesture made her feel cared for, a welcome change from the emptiness that had consumed her.

As they climbed into the warmth of the Mercedes, Y/N felt a flicker of something she hadn't felt in a long time: hope. Maybe, just maybe, Liam could help her forget about Jack, even for a little while.

She glanced over at him as he settled into the driver's seat, admiring the strong line of his jaw and the way his hands gripped the steering wheel with easy confidence.

they drove away from the curb, Y/N leaned her head back against the headrest, her eyes drifting closed as she tried to block out the memory of Jack's words, the look of pity and regret on his face as he shattered her heart into a million tiny pieces. She forced herself to take deep, even breaths, focusing on the present moment and the possibility of a fresh start.

.…

Jacks POV

Jack stormed back into the apartment, slamming the door behind him with a force that rattled the walls. His heart heart throbbed violently, a nauseating mixture of anger, jealousy, and regret churning in his stomach as he replayed the conversation with Y/N over and over again in his mind.

He paced the length of the living room, his hands clenched into fists at his sides as he tried to calm the rage that threatened to consume him. The apartment felt too small, too cramped, the walls closing in on him as he struggled to breathe past the lump in his throat.

Everywhere he looked, he saw reminders of Y/N - the soft grey blanket she always curled up with on movie nights, the stack of her favorite books on the coffee table, the framed picture of the two of them at graduation, their arms around each other and their smiles wide and carefree.

He picked up the picture and stared at it for a long moment, his heart aching. He couldn't believe that everything was over. They had been together for so long, he couldn't imagine his life without her. He threw the picture across the room, where it shattered against the wall.

He sank down on the couch, his head in his hands.

With a growl of frustration, Jack snatched up his phone, his fingers shaking as he opened the tracking app and searched for Y/N's location. He knew it was wrong, knew that he had no right to invade her privacy like this, but he couldn't help himself. He needed to know where she was, needed to know that she was safe.

The app showed her moving through the city, the little red dot that represented her weaving through the streets at a steady pace. Jack watched it for a long moment, his heart clenching with every passing second, before he finally tore his eyes away, disgusted with himself.

He stalked into the kitchen, his mind racing as he tried to think of something, anything, to distract himself from the pain that threatened to tear him apart.

His eyes fell on the recipe box that Y/N had brought with her when she moved in, the faded index cards inside filled with her grandmother's handwriting and the smells of childhood memories.

Before he knew what he was doing, Jack pulled the box open and flipped through the cards, his fingers tracing the loops and whorls of each letter.

He stopped at a card that had 'Grandma's Best Chocolate Chip Cookies' written in large, loopy letters. It was Y/N's favorite recipe, the one she always used to make when she was feeling down or just wanted to fill the house with the scent of home.

Jack was pulling out ingredients, his hands moving on autopilot as he measured and mixed and stirred, his movements slow and deliberate. He measured the flour and sugar, added the butter and eggs, and then stirred in the chocolate chips.

The smell of vanilla and cinnamon filled the air, the warm, comforting scent of Y/N's favorite cookies wrapping around him like a hug.

Jack took a deep breath, willing himself to calm down. He could do this. He could make these cookies, and maybe, just maybe, it would help him to feel a little bit closer to Y/N.

But even as he worked, his mind wouldn't let him rest. He kept seeing the look on Y/N's face as he told her he didn't feel the same way, the way her eyes had filled with tears and her lips had trembled with the effort of holding back a sob.

He kept hearing the sound of her heels clicking on the floor as she walked away from him, the finality of it like a knife to the heart.

The cookies came out of the oven, golden brown and perfect, but Jack barely noticed. He was too busy pacing the length of the kitchen, his phone clutched in his hand as he checked Y/N's location over and over again, watching as the little red dot moved further and further away from him.

The hours ticked by, the night deepening outside the windows as Jack lost himself in his thoughts. The apartment was a mess, the kitchen counter covered in flour and sugar and dirty mixing bowls, but he couldn't bring himself to care.

All he could think about was Y/N, and the way he had ruined everything with his cowardice and his fear.

Finally, as the first rays of dawn began to peek through the curtains, Jack collapsed onto the couch, his body exhausted and his heart heavy with the weight of his mistakes.

He closed his eyes, the image of Y/N's tear-stained face burned into his mind like a brand, a reminder of everything he had lost and everything he had thrown away.

Jack knew that he had no one to blame but himself, knew that he had let his own insecurities and doubts get in the way of something that could have been beautiful.

And now, as he lay there in the silence of the empty apartment, the smell of vanilla and cinnamon still lingering in the air, he couldn't help but wonder if he had just made the biggest mistake of his life.

…

Jack stood at the edge of the rink, his eyes glued to his phone as he refreshed Y/N's location for what felt like the hundredth time that day.

Three days had passed since their argument, three days since she had walked out of the apartment and out of his life, and he still hadn't heard a word from her.

He had texted her countless times, his messages ranging from frantic apologies to desperate pleas for her to come home. But every time, he was met with silence, the little blue checkmarks next to his messages taunting him with their unresponsiveness.

The sound of skates scraping against the ice jolted him out of his thoughts, and he looked up to see Nico gliding towards him, a concerned expression on his face. Jack quickly shoved his phone into his pocket, hoping that his teammate hadn't noticed the way his hands were shaking.

"What's wrong with you, Jack?" Nico asked, his thick Swiss accent making the words sound even more blunt than they already were. "Did you break up with your girlfriend again?"

Jack flinched at the question, his heart clenching painfully in his chest. If only it were that simple, he thought bitterly. If only he had a girlfriend to break up with, instead of a best friend he had driven away with his own stupidity and cowardice.

"No," he said, his voice rough and hoarse from lack of sleep. "It's not that. It's... it's Y/N."

Nico's eyebrows shot up in surprise, his eyes widening as he took in the dark circles beneath Jack's eyes and the gauntness of his cheeks. "Y/N?" he repeated, his voice laced with confusion. "What happened with Y/N?"

Jack sighed, his shoulders slumping as he ran a hand through his hair. He hadn't told anyone about the argument, hadn't wanted to admit to the world how badly he had screwed things up.

But standing there on the ice, with Nico looking at him with such concern and understanding, he felt the words spilling out of him before he could stop them.

"I messed up," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I told her I didn't feel the same way about her, and now she's gone. She hasn't come home in three days, and she won't answer any of my texts or calls. I don't know what to do."

“You idiot,” he said, but his voice lacked any real malice. “Why would you say something like that to her? You know how much she cares about you.”

“I know,” Jack said miserably. “I just... I panicked. I didn't know what to say, and I didn't want to hurt her. But I guess I did anyway.”

Nico was silent for a moment, his eyes searching Jack's face as if he were trying to read the truth behind his words. Finally, he spoke, his voice gentle but firm.

"Jack," he said, his hand coming up to rest on his teammate's shoulder. "I know you care about Y/N, but you can't keep doing this to yourself. You need to give her space, need to let her come to you when she's ready."

Jack shook his head, his eyes stinging with the threat of tears. "I can't," he said, his voice cracking with emotion. "I can't lose her, Nico. She's my best friend, the most important person in my life. I don't know how to be without her."

Nico sighed, his eyes softening with sympathy. "I know," he said, his voice almost tender. "But you can't force her to forgive you, Jack. You have to let her come to that decision on her own. And in the meantime, you need to focus on taking care of yourself. You're no good to anyone if you're running yourself into the ground like this."

Jack knew that Nico was right, knew that he couldn't keep going on like this. But the thought of letting go, of giving up on the one person who meant everything to him, made his chest ache with a pain that felt almost physical.

"I don't know if I can do that," he said, his voice barely audible over the sound of his own heartbeat. "I don't know if I'm strong enough."

Nico smiled, his hand squeezing Jack's shoulder in a gesture of comfort and support. "You are," he said, his voice filled with quiet confidence.

"You're one of the strongest people I know, Jack. And you're not alone in this. Your team is here for you, and we'll support you every step of the way."

Jack felt a rush of gratitude at his teammate's words, a tiny flicker of hope sparking to life in his chest. He knew that the road ahead would be long and difficult, that there would be days when the pain would feel like too much to bear.

But with his friends by his side, and the memory of Y/N's smile to guide him, he knew that he could find his way back to the light, no matter how dark the path might seem.

"Thanks, Nico," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

Nico grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Probably drive yourself crazy," he said, his tone teasing. "But that's what friends are for, right?"

Jack laughed, the sound weak and watery, but genuine, nonetheless. And as he stepped back onto the ice, his skates cutting through the smooth surface with a newfound sense of purpose.

…

y/n’s POV

Y/N sat on Liam's couch, her phone clutched in her hand as she scrolled mindlessly through her social media feeds. The apartment was quiet, the only sound the distant hum of the shower running in the bathroom. She tried to focus on the pictures and posts flashing across her screen, but her mind kept drifting back to the one person she was trying so hard to forget.

Jack.

The name echoed in her mind like a heartbeat, a constant reminder of the pain and heartbreak she had left behind. It had been three days since she had walked out of their apartment, three days since she had last seen his face or heard his voice.

And yet, he was still there, lurking in the corners of her mind like a ghost she couldn't shake.

She knew that she was just using Liam as a distraction, a way to numb the ache in her chest and forget about the hole in her heart. But he was a good one, always there with a smile and a joke whenever she needed it most.

Whenever she found herself slipping back into thoughts of Jack, Liam would appear at her side, his presence a comforting reminder that she wasn't alone.

Y/N sighed, her fingers hovering over her phone screen as she debated whether to check Jack's social media. She knew it was a bad idea, knew that seeing his face would only make the pain worse. But a part of her couldn't help but wonder what he was doing, couldn't help but hope that maybe, just maybe, he was thinking of her too.

Before she could give in to the temptation, the sound of Liam's voice broke through her thoughts.

"I'm gonna hop in the shower, Y/N," he called out, his footsteps echoing down the hallway as he grabbed some clothes from his bedroom.

Y/N looked up from her phone, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Okay, don't take too long," she called back, her voice light and teasing.

She heard the bathroom door click shut, and then the sound of the shower turning on, the water pattering against the tiles in a steady rhythm. Y/N leaned back against the couch cushions, her eyes drifting closed as she tried to push away the thoughts of Jack that still lingered in her mind.

But even as she sat there, surrounded by the warmth and comfort of Liam's apartment, she couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing. The ache in her chest was still there, a constant reminder of the love she had lost and the friendship she had left behind.

Jack's absence left a void that no amount of distraction could fill, and Y/n was beginning to realize that she needed to confront her feelings head-on. The sound of running water filled the room, Y/n closed her eyes, steeling herself for the inevitable confrontation with her emotions.

Her phone pinging broke the silence of his living room. "can’t wait to see you! mom and I gonna pick you up from the airport." The text from Luke read.

Y/N's heart sank as she read the text message, the words on the screen a stark reminder of the life she had left behind. In the whirlwind of emotions and distractions of the past few days, she had completely forgotten about their planned weekend trip back to Michigan.

She cursed under her breath, her mind already racing with the logistics of packing and getting to the airport on time. A glance at the clock on the wall told her it was already 10:30, and she knew that Jack would likely be home by now, probably wondering where she was and why she hadn't come back.

With a sigh, Y/N threw her phone into her purse and made her way over to the bathroom door. She hesitated for a moment, her hand hovering over the wood as she debated what to say. Finally, she knocked softly, her voice barely audible over the sound of the running water.

"Hey Liam," she called out, her tone apologetic. "I totally forgot I have a weekend trip to pack for. I need to head out."

There was a pause, and then the sound of the shower curtain being pulled back. Liam peeked his head out, his hair damp and his skin glistening with water droplets. He had a small smile on his lips, but Y/N could see the disappointment lurking in his eyes.

"Oh, okay," he said, his voice carefully neutral. "Do you need a ride? I can take you."

Y/N hesitated, the offer tempting in its simplicity. It would be so easy to let Liam drive her home, to put off the inevitable confrontation with Jack for just a little while longer.

But she knew that she couldn't keep running forever, knew that eventually, she would have to face the music and deal with the consequences of her actions.

"No, that's okay," she said, her voice soft but firm. "I can take a cab. I don't want to put you out."

Liam shook his head, his smile widening. "Don't be silly," he said, his tone light and teasing. "I was just getting out anyway. Let me drive you back home."

Y/N felt a rush of gratitude at his words, a warmth spreading through her chest at the kindness and generosity of his offer. She knew that she was lucky to have him in her life, knew that he would always be there for her, no matter what the future might hold.

"Okay," she said, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Thank you, Liam. I really appreciate it."

Liam grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Anything for you, Y/N," he said, his voice filled with a fondness that made her heart ache. "Just give me a minute to get dressed, and we'll be on our way."

Y/N nodded, her throat tight with emotion as she watched him disappear back into the bathroom. She knew that the road ahead would be long and difficult, that there would be moments of doubt and uncertainty.

And as she stood there, waiting for Liam to emerge from the bathroom, she couldn't help but feel a flicker of hope igniting in her chest.

Maybe, just maybe, the journey ahead would lead her back to the place she had always called home, back to the love that had always been waiting for her, just out of reach.

…

The hallway was shrouded in darkness, the only light coming from the soft glow of the emergency exit sign at the end of the corridor. Her footsteps echoed on the hardwood floor, each step bringing her closer to the door of the apartment she shared with Jack.

Y/N's heart raced as she stepped out of the elevator, the familiar scent of home filling her nostrils.

Liam followed close behind her, his presence a comforting warmth at her back. Y/N could feel the heat of his body radiating through the thin fabric of her shirt, and for a moment, she allowed herself to lean into him, to draw strength from his solid, steady presence.

But just as they were about to reach the door, Liam's hand shot out, his fingers wrapping around Y/N's wrist and pulling her back towards him. She let out a gasp of surprise, her heart leaping into her throat as she spun around to face him.

In the dim light of the hallway, Liam's face was shadowed, his features obscured by the darkness. But Y/N could still see the glint of his eyes, the curve of his lips as he smiled down at her. His breath ghosted across her cheek, warm and slightly sweet, like he had just taken a sip of hot cocoa.

Y/N's heart raced as Liam pulled her closer, his arm wrapping around her waist like a coil of heat. The hallway was shrouded in darkness, the only light coming from the soft glow of the elevator buttons behind them.

The air was thick with the scent of stale cigarette smoke and the faint aroma of cleaning products, a sharp contrast to the warm, spicy scent of Liam's cologne.

His face was mere inches from hers, his eyes dark and intense in the dim light. Y/N's heart pounded in her chest, the sound so loud that she was sure he could hear it too.

"I had a great few days with you," Liam murmured, his voice low and husky. His fingers trailed up her spine, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. Y/N shivered, her skin tingling with a mixture of anticipation and nerves.

She knew that she should pull away, knew that this was a dangerous game to play. But there was something about the way Liam looked at her, something about the heat in his gaze and the strength of his touch, that made her feel alive in a way she hadn't felt in a long time.

The world around them seemed to fade away, the sound of the elevator and the hum of the fluorescent lights receding into the background.

All Y/N could focus on was the warmth of Liam's body against hers, the way his fingers tangled in her hair and his breath mingled with her own.

She didn't hear the soft ding of the elevator arriving on their floor, didn't hear the sound of footsteps echoing down the hallway. All she could hear was the pounding of her own heart, the rush of blood in her ears as Liam leaned in closer, his lips hovering just above her own.

Her head was spinning, her heart pounding with a mixture of anger, frustration, and desperation. It was time to stop chasing after a dream that would never come true, time to stop pining for a man who would never see her as anything more than a friend.

And in that moment, something inside her snapped. Before she could think twice, Y/N reached up and grabbed Liam's face, pulling him down to her level and crashing her lips against his.

The kiss was hot and hungry, filled with all the pent-up frustration and longing that had been building inside her for so long. Y/N poured everything she had into that kiss, every ounce of emotion and desire and desperate hope that maybe, just maybe, she could find with Liam what she had always wanted with Jack.

But even as Liam's arms wrapped around her waist, even as his tongue tangled with hers and his hands roamed over her body, Y/N knew that it wasn't enough.

The spark that she felt with Jack, the electricity that crackled between them every time they touched, was conspicuously absent.

Kissing Liam was nice, but it didn't set her soul on fire the way Jack's mere presence did.

Finally, Y/N pulled back, her chest heaving and her lips swollen. She looked up at Liam, her eyes searching his face for some sign of the connection she so desperately craved.

But all she saw was a man who cared for her, who wanted to be there for her, but who could never make her feel the way Jack did.

"I'll see you when I get back, Liam," she whispered, her voice cracking with emotion. "Three days. And I’ll come home."

Liam's face softened, his hands coming up to cup her cheeks. "Okay, Y/N," he murmured, his voice gentle and understanding. "Don’t forget about me." And so, with a final, shuddering breath, Y/N pulled back from Liam's embrace, her eyes shining with a new determination.

"Y/N?"

Y/N's shoulders tensed, her heart leaping into her throat as she spun around to face the source of the sound. And there, standing at the end of the hallway, his face a mask of shock and hurt, was Jack.

The sight of him hit her like a punch to the gut, the air rushing out of her lungs in a sharp gasp. He looked tired and worn, his hair disheveled and his eyes rimmed with red.

Even in the dim light of the hallway, she could see the pain etched into every line of his face, the betrayal and confusion swirling in his gaze.

"Jack," she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper. "What are you doing here?"

But even as the words left her lips, she knew they were a mistake. She could see the anger flashing in Jack's eyes, the way his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

In that moment, she knew that whatever fragile peace they had managed to maintain over the past few days was about to come crashing down around them.

The hallway suddenly felt too small, the walls closing in on her like a vice. The scent of cigarette smoke and cleaning products was overwhelming, making her head spin and her stomach churn. And still, Jack stood there, his gaze boring into hers like a laser, his presence a physical force that she could feel in every cell of her body.

Y/N opened her mouth to speak, to try to explain or apologize or beg for forgiveness. But before she could get a word out she thought back to their fight. The things jack had said to her in this same cover of darkness.

Jack brushed past, his steps leading him into the apartment, the door slamming shut behind him with a resounding thud. Y/N felt like she had been punched in the gut, the air rushing out of her lungs in a sharp gasp.

…

Tag List <3

@favsrachz @jacktoria4ever @bunbunbl0gs @ivy-34 @rebelatbay

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btsugarush · 5 months

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In These Streets | jhs [m.list]

❝i don’t care what anyone says, i want you.❞

summary: in this modern day romeo and juliet, you fall in love with jung hoseok; a carefree, street tough who introduces you to life in his hood.

pairings: jung hoseok x f!reader.

warnings: smut, fluff, drugs, strong language, violence, angst, 18+, minors dni.

author’s note: so, this is another wip that i’ve been thinking of for a while. i’ve wanted to write for hoseok since i first wrote gangsta so here it is.

000 |

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eoieopda · 1 year

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the one where hoseok comes home

Pairing: Jung Hoseok x gn!Reader Type: Drabble // Fluff // Established Relationship AU Rating: PG-13 — Minors DNI w/ my content, regardless! CW: None 💕 Summary: It’s October 2024 and your life finally — finally — resumes its orbit. WC: .5k A/N: Deviating from my WIPs (ope) because I needed a fix-it fic for, like, reality? Nobody requested this lil baby blurb, unless you count… me. Dedicated to (m)y jihope-biased emotional support moot, @here2bbtstrash

You’d learned more in eighteen months than you had in over eighteen years of formal education.

The first lesson came on your second morning alone: hotteok tastes better when it’s made for you. Even if the cook gets distracted by the background music they themselves are generating. Even if the edges are crispier than they should be, and the centers are a bit gooey, or there’s pre-packaged mix dusting over your previously clean countertops. Even if that hotteok is cold by the time you stop kissing and start eating, you know now that few things in life are sweeter.

He is, of course, but the point still stands.

Showers, you’d learned, are colder when you take them alone. This was a surprise you grappled with for weeks and a confounding reality you still struggle to square. A scientific mystery, then and now.

All of the hot water was yours — exclusively — to use as you pleased. You didn’t have to scramble, soap-covered and squealing, for the prime spot under the shower head. Cold air didn’t nip at your damp skin when you lost territory because you didn’t have to compete for any in the first place. Still, without whole-chested laughter to echo off the walls, not much existed to separate your body from cold porcelain.

The absence of personal space isn’t something you intend to ever take for granted again.

Of all the things you’d realized in your uncharacteristically quiet apartment, one thing hit a little harder:

Love looks different every day.

Sometimes, it comes at an odd angle. It’s spending all thirty minutes of a daily allowance with a phone propped against a faucet. It’s staring up at someone’s chin, watching fondly as they brush their teeth, and smiling when they remember — without being told — to put the cap back on the toothpaste.

Other times, it looks like an Excel spreadsheet of pop culture news, fastidiously collected and organized so that no groundbreaking celebrity gossip goes unreported. It’s incredulous eyes and a scandalized mouth hanging open, interjecting occasionally with, “Wa, jinjja?”

Every now and then, it looks like handwritten letters with thick, black redactions applied after the fact with a far heavier hand. Though you couldn’t tell where in the Republic they came from, you knew — without question — that government censorship does not apply to hastily doodled hearts.

Today, however, love doesn’t look like much of anything because its hands are covering your eyes.

It sounds like clean spoons clattering back into the dishwasher you’d been emptying, entirely unaware that the door down the hall had opened and shut out of earshot. It smells like army-issued shampoo and Thai milk tea from that little spot near the train station, where surprise journeys home occur two days ahead of schedule. And it feels like the ground shifting beneath your fluffy house slippers; the Earth now back on its axis and ready to resume spinning like it should.

Tonight, love will taste like hotteok for dinner — and you won’t have to make it yourself.

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outrogi · 11 months

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laura's hoseok recs

I’ve been reading fics in here nonstop way before I started this blog. It felt like a sin not compiling a list of some of the stories that I loved and hadn’t gotten around to sharing yet, a few of them safe in my drafts until I was ready to make this.

I will keep on adding onto this list as I keep finding stories I've read before and would love to share with you. Leave some love and appreciation to the authors if you can!

disclaimer: all stories that include mature themes will be labeled accordingly. DNI if you aren’t 18+

♡ - favorite

S E R I E S

the purge by @jungblue ◦ violence, gore, angst

heartbeat by @joonbird ♡ ◦ gang au, angst, smut

guarded by @xjoonchildx ♡ ◦ mafia au, angst, fluff, smut

madeleine by @kpopfanfictrash ♡ ◦ arranged marriage au, one night stand au, angst, fluff, smut

airplane mode by @out-of-jams ◦ idol au, soulmate au, fluff, angst, eventual smut

O N E - S H O T S

polaris by @junghelioseok ♡ ◦ time traveler au, fluff, smut

covenant by @junghelioseok ◦ werewolf au, friends to lovers, angst, smut

party on you by @here2bbtstrash ◦ idol au, light fluff, smut

a universe to you by @readyplayerhobi ◦ soulmate au, angst, smut

oranges & lemons by @fantasybangtan ◦ modern greek mythology, smut

sonic rain by @jungblue ♡ ◦ college au, dancer au, smut, fluff, light angst

it's you by @jinpanman ◦ friends to lovers, teacher au, coworkers, fluff

note #1: if any fic recommended is in hiatus, the author has yet to update or left altogether, please do not pester them with updates.

note #2: These are not all of my JHS recs! There’s more with extensive commentary from me here and you can find more of my favorites here

#jhs #hoseok x reader #hoseok smut #hoseok fluff #hoseok angst #hoseok au #hoseok fic rec #bts au #bts x reader #it was genuinely tough not marking all of these as favorites cause tbh they all are 😭

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leibholz-moved · 1 year

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— chu~ (true love’s kiss loophole)

#it’s ooc TO YOU. i’m living it tho /jh #🌟 you never should settle for the lifetime that is handed to you #🌟+🍀#💖 img #***png #romantic f/o #suggestive #(orz i’ve been having some real bad health time this past week and i NEED to distract myself with fluff. so. kissing him tons)#(anywhere but lips for cursebreaking reasons tho)

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persphonesorchid · 1 year

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Constellations Of You - JHS

Summary: A new chapter of Him and You begins. He’s waited a long time for this, for the mornings where he could wake next to you in a house you’d both made a home of.

Genre: Est. Relationship, Fluff, smut (minors begone)

WC: 3.3k

Warnings: Soft Dom Hoseok, he's a little bit mean. Unprotected sex, lots of pet names, uh Hobi puts his thumb in Mc's mouth at one point, hand on throat but not actually choking. Hoseok is soft as hell for MC and I'm gonna marry him or some shit.

Notes: Happy birthday to my man Hobi. Genuinely hope he's having a great day. Also I wrapped this fic up at like 2am this morning so if you see any mistakes, don't hesitate to tell me!

Check out my other works- HERE

If you enjoy my content, please consider donating- Here

It’s cold, and somewhere on the cusp of sleep and wakefulness, Hoseok shifts closer to you out of habit. The arm he throws over you meets the chill of the air too soon, and he lifts his head away from where it’s tucked against your neck. Sleepily, he squints against the light of the rising sun, it’s not quite there, but it’s peaking through the crack in the curtains and annoyingly, right in his eyes.

Shifting a bit more, Hoseok realizes that it’s cold where his hand is because you’ve kicked the sheets away from you at some point. Though he could see the furrow of your brows and the telling curl of your spine against his front, where you’d drawn your knees up and close to your chest.

Sighing, Hoseok sits up, yawning as he tries to pull the covers from where it’s tangled at his legs and somewhere – somehow – under you. Successful, he fixes the covers over you and sinks back into the warmth of it when you relax.

You murmur something that sounds like his name, rolling over and tucking yourself against him. Your feet are cold against his shins, but Hoseok doesn’t mind too much despite the quiet swear he lets out.

He’s awake enough now, to stare at the bare wall on the other side of the room. There’s two rolls of wallpaper leaning in a corner because you’d decided against painting, boxes stacked on top of each other because you’d both done everything but unpack them yesterday.

There’s still a lot to do, but Hoseok would like to wait until the sky is blue and he’s not as tired.

“What time is it?” you ask, lips brushing against his collarbone. He slips his hand under the oversized jersey you wore, pressing his fingers into the warmth of your skin.

“Too early,” Hoseok sighs, “go back to sleep.” He hikes his leg over your hip as you get comfortable. Just as he settles, eyes drifting closed again, you call his name and he answers with a hum that rumbles in his chest.

“When does the furniture get here?” Your voice is quiet, and Hoseok knows you’re already on your way back to sleep. He is too, and his answer is equally quiet.

“’Round eight...”

When Hoseok wakes again, you’re gone and he’s hugging the covers. There’s a clang from somewhere down the hall and a soft swear that follows. Rubbing at his eyes, Hoseok sits up, scooting to the edge of the bed to swing his legs over the side.

He walks out of the bedroom and down the hall to the kitchen where you stand facing away from him. There’s a soft popping of eggs in the frying pan, bacon set aside on a napkin covered plate and the electric kettle is whistling. He knows better than to sneak up on you while you’re over the stovetop, so he waits until you’ve set the spatula aside.

Walking over, he wraps his arms around your waist, setting his chin on your shoulder to peer into the frying pan. You startle still, giggling, you lightly pat his arm, “You scared me.”

Hoseok places a gentle kiss on your neck in apology, “Thought you heard me.”

“S’okay,”

Hoseok sways you gently in place, forehead against the spot where your neck meets your shoulder. He’s content to just stand there, and if time freezes around him, he wouldn’t notice nor would it matter. In this moment where it’s just you and him and nothing can separate you both.

He’s waited a long time for this, for the mornings where he could wake next to you in a house you’d both made a home of. Even though, right now, it’s barely anything, a house full of your presence but lacking in memories. Something that will build in time. The space in which you’d share your highs and lows, when days would blend together on repeat and he’d lose track of them.

Hoseok could spend forever here, wrapped tightly in the little bubble of comfort. Where the scent of your coconut shampoo invades his senses and the warmth of you is a welcome sensation. He inhales softly, nose against your hair and presses a kiss where his lips could reach.

“I can’t do anything if you’re glued to me, Jay.” You chuckle, wiggling against him like a worm caught, but you don’t push him away. You turn the heat of the stove off with a quick movement of your fingers. You shift to the left and he moves with you, unwilling to separate by even a few inches. “Hoseok.”

Hoseok ignores the whine of his name, “Just pretend I’m not here.” He tightens his hold, only releasing when you whine louder.

Chuckling, he shuffles over to the kettle that’s long turned off, steam rising out of the pointed lip. The mugs you’d used last night were the only two in the cupboard overhead, and a half empty packet of instant coffee tucked into the corner. “Coffee or tea, babe?”

You look over at him, from where you’ve started cutting into an avocado. “Is the tea in the cupboard?”

Hoseok shakes his head, eyes darting to the boxes tucked in the far corner near the fridge behind you. “It's in there somewhere, I think.”

The face you make has him chuckling; he doesn’t want to go digging through the boxes anyway. He takes the mugs down, letting the dark grains of coffee roll on into them in even share. He pours less water in your mug, knowing that you’d put milk because there’s no creamer. Carefully, he takes the mugs over to the table and sets them down, the table that has two more chairs than needed but would be filled someday – one day.

You smile as you set the plates down, fingers reaching to dance at the back of his neck. Hoseok watches as you pour milk into your mug before you stick it into the microwave to bring back the heat it’s lost.

“What do we have to do today...besides unpacking everything?” Hoseok asks once you’ve settled opposite him, picking at the crust of his buttered toast.

You hum, “Grocery, and we have to replace the plates that broke yesterday. And the furniture’s supposed to be here soon.”

Nodding, you’d both spend the next ten minutes not doing much talking, mouths being busy otherwise. When finished, Hoseok does the clean up while you shower, and busies himself with unpacking the dishes. By the time you’re out, the mover’s truck is parked outside and for the next hour and a half, you and Hoseok decide how and where everything would go.

Distracted, for moments where you’d talk from different sides of the room, or doing silly dances to the hip-hop tracks coming from the stereo. And Hoseok, was more specifically distracted by you struggling to drag a large bag of drapes into the room from the hallway. You laugh as you stumble, deciding to stop and push instead of pull, the soft light from the sun coming in through the windows glows against the backdrop of your form.

“What color should we go with?” You ask, hands on your hips as you stare down into the open bag.

Long before, a good four or so years ago, Hoseok never had to worry about the ‘we’. He didn’t have to measure his actions to suit the cause and effect of another person, free to be who he was in all his lonesome. When he’d work and return to his apartment that was solely his. His own space in which he was content, where he’d cook only for himself, or didn’t have to worry when he left the toilet seat up in his half awake state.

When the framed pictures on his walls were of him and his friends, treasured moments that belonged only to them. Then, you came and that had to change, I became Us – a unit that took time to build upon and get used to. Suddenly, he wasn’t cooking for himself anymore, and he would put the toilet seat back down no matter how sleepy he was. The framed pictures on the walls never changed, only new ones were added, treasured memories that belonged only to you and him.

It wasn’t all easy, no relationship ever is. There were ups and downs, arguments where you’d both said things you hadn’t meant when anger and frustration persisted. Moments when it was better to just give each other space to cool off, and all would be forgiven after a long talk.

And there were moments where Hoseok felt like he was floating somewhere above the clouds. So high up, tethered to earth by a string that wound itself around your wrist. Sometimes he worried, in late nights after a particularly bad fight and too much whisky, that you’d cut him loose one day and he’d come crashing down like a comet. You never did, though, you’d only hold tighter to the string that kept you both.

Hoseok walks over to you, you’re digging through the bag, pulling out different shades of lighter curtains to get to the drapes at the bottom. He lays his palm against your lower back, fingers dipping under the edge of the sweater you’ve taken out of his side of the closet. You hum in question, straightening against him. “Can I help you, sir?”

“Maybe.” Hoseok smiles, letting his hand roam around to the soft expanse of your tummy and leaves it there. “I don’t need anything, just love you.”

“I love you, too?” Your brows furrow and you chuckle out your confusion. In all his dramatics and flare, Hoseok pulls away from you, a hand pressed against his chest as though wounded.

“A question?” he gasps, “Doth the fair maiden not share the same sentiments?”

“Oh, God. Never say that again.” You turn to face him, a laugh on your exhale, but you go along with it anyway; never one to deny him. “A rash assumption, Sir Jung.”

On your toes you tip, and Hoseok meets you halfway when he leans for your sake, expecting the kiss that you brush so lightly against his lips with a sweet hum. “I love you too, silly.”

Hoseok is reaching for you, but you slip away too quickly, free from the grasps of his hands you nudge the bag at your feet. “Now if you would be so kind. Help me pick a color.”

“Should we get this?”

You’re a little ways away from Hoseok, where he’s manning the shopping cart filled with groceries. You’re standing near the freezers, a box of ice-cream pops in your hand. You’re not looking at him though, instead, pondering the different flavors in your sight.

Hoseok wheels the cart and sets it to the side and out of anyone’s way. You’ve long run through the list of essentials, now, Hoseok’s only trailing behind you as you ask his opinion on random things you wanted. “If you want, yeah.”

He looks at the flavors too, and picks up a box that marketed a pistachio flavor. You glance at it and make a face, “It's not that bad,” he chuckles, taking your plain chocolate and placing them both in the cart.

By the time you’re out of the grocery and on the drive back home, it’s almost four pm. Most of the morning and early afternoon was spent organizing the house, and a late lunch left you both behind on getting everything done.

With the indicator ticking rhythmically, Hoseok turns onto the neighborhood street. You lean forward in your seat, squinting, “Is that Seokjin’s car?”

It was, and once Hoseok parked in the driveway, he’d found his friends sitting on the sidewalk. Hugs and congratulatory greetings were shared, Jungkook is holding a stack of pizza boxes, a couple more than Hoseok thinks they’d be able to run through. Seokjin’s complaining about the crick in his neck that he acquired and blames on the length of time he’d spent driving over.

Namjoon and Yoongi are standing a little ways off to the side of the group, both laughing at the fact that they’ve brought the same bottle of whisky. Jimin’s clinging to Hoseok’s frame, saying that he missed him too much even though he’d seen him the day before in the city. Taehyung’s trying to get everyone to quiet down, camera in hand and wanting to take a photo.

So you all stand there once Taehyung has the camera on the tripod and they all surround you both, with smiles and peace signs. A photo that would be framed to put somewhere in the living room. And you all clamber inside, out of the cold before Yoongi could start to complain about it. A housewarming get together that was entirely unplanned, but not unwelcome.

When the sun pulled the moon into the sky, and the pizza boxes were surprisingly empty, the boys said their goodbyes at the door. Wandering off to Seokjin and Yoongi’s cars with promises of visiting as often as their time allows.

You and Hoseok called an early night, after you’d both washed the day away. He’d left you to settle into bed while he locked the doors and windows. Eyes wandering around the space that was previously open, now comforting, and with a memory that’s on its way to sinking into the walls.

Hoseok makes his way up the stairs, after making sure he’d left the kitchen light on because you wouldn’t be comfortable if all the lights are out. He finds you, just as you place your phone down on the nightstand. Shutting the door behind him, he quickly crawls under the covers and into your space.

He draws you closer to him with an arm around your waist, kisses your shoulder where your tee shirt’s tugged down to reveal your warm skin. You shift in his hold, turning to face him and Hoseok peppers small, fluttering kisses all over your face.

Nudging your chin with his fingers, Hoseok tilts your head back enough to slot his lips against yours. The kiss is languid and patient, much like his love for you, his fingers drifting softly against your jaw and into your hair.

It wasn’t long before Hoseok’s sucking on your bottom lip, slipping his tongue into your mouth to slide against yours. His hand trails away from your hair, down and back under your tee shirt where he gently grips your hip. He brings his knee up between your thighs and he swallows the sound you make when it pressed flush against your core.

He directs the motion of your hips against his thigh, and the whimper you let out when he pulls his mouth away from yours runs like electricity on a wire straight to his cock.

The hand that’s trapped under the weight of your head twists towards you, lacing into your hair so that Hoseok could press his lips against your neck. He nips at your skin with blunt teeth, there’s a desperation in the way you try to rock your hips faster than he’s letting you and the way softly whine his name.

“Hobi.” He feels your hand curl into the material of his tee and the way you tug. He hums, too busy sucking a bruise below your jaw to properly answer.

“Want you.”

Hoseok pulls away from your neck, his eyes adjusted enough to the darkness of the room to make out the outline of your features. He needs no light to guess how you look right now: pupils swallowing the expanse of your irises, flushed cheeks and kiss swollen lips.

Tilting his head, he halts your movement with a firm grip. Allowing you your moment to protest against it, there’s a smirk lifting the corner of his mouth and dark need swirling in his chest.

“Yeah?” Hoseok coos softly – mockingly – tongue flicking out to wet his lips. He feels your nod more than he sees, and he chuckles, “Ask nicely, little girl.”

“Please, please.” You chant, begging so, so sweet for him, and Hoseok catches your hand that snuck under his tee shirt. Softly, he clicks his tongue against his teeth, and pulls away.

He shifts, raising to throw the now too warm covers off. He settles you how he wants, on your back with his knees on either side of your hips. He keeps your wrists in his hand, above your head, while his other hand teases at the band of your panties. He kisses you softly, pressing his lips against yours and not doing much else, shifting to get himself between your thighs.

“So desperate for me, hm?” Angling his hips just right, he lets his arm hold his weight and presses the firmness of his cock against your covered cunt. At your moan, Hoseok draws his bottom lip between his teeth. He could barely stand it himself, his boxers felt too tight against him, he could feel just how worked up you are. There’s a dampness that’s all you, easing the grind of his cock against you. “Tell me what you want, baby.”

“Touch me, please.” You request breathlessly, hips raising to meet his.

“I am touching you, doll.” Hoseok squeezes your wrist gently in his hold to remind you, and he could only chuckle at your frustrated exhale, “You know how this works. Tell me exactly or I won’t know what you want.”

He stills his hips and waits – ever patient – until you catch your breath.

“Want your hands, cock – anything, please.”

Leaning down, Hoseok presses a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth, before he draws back again, letting go of your hands. Running his hands along your sides, he tugs lightly at the hem of your tee, “Off.”

You raise slightly, hastily pulling the shirt up and over your head. Hoseok does the same, quickly clambering off the bed to get out of his clothes and getting back in just as quickly.

He puts himself right back between your legs, a hand fumbling blindly to press against your clit. His fingers slide against you easily, sinking into the warmth of you, his other hand squeezes at the base of his cock to mirror the tightness he feels. He’d barely gotten a few thrusts in when you’d turn restless, the way your hips rose to meet the motion of his hand gave way to your frustration.

“Hobi...”

“Okay, okay.” Hoseok chuckles as your impatience is his own, too. He tugs you to him with his arms around your thighs, using a hand to rub the sensitive head of his cock against your sodden folds. A groan leaves him as he sinks his cock into you, keeping a steady pace of shallow thrusts until he bottoms out.

“Fuck, baby.” Hoseok squeezes his eyes shut, leaning forward over you, caging you in with his hands beside you head, “Always so good for me.”

The kiss you share then is teeth and tongue as Hoseok finds his rhythm, the sound of his hips meeting yours is loud in the stillness of the room. He groans into your neck where he licks and sucks at your salty skin.

Hoseok almost blows his load when your pussy clenches around him. He knows he’s hitting the right spot when you shudder, thighs tightening as you try to pull him as closely as you could. “Gonna cum?”

“Y-yeah.” Your words broken, pitched high with your need, eyes rolling back as Hoseok began to drag out his movements.

“Yeah? Then beg for it little girl.” His hand shifts, resting against your jaw gently, “Beg me to let you cum.”

His thumb slips into your mouth and you suck on it like you would his cock, tongue swirling around the digit. Hoseok groans low in his throat, cock twitching inside your cunt. Eyes trained on your mouth, he presses down on your tongue to pry your lips apart. “Come on, sweetheart.”

His fingers squeezing into the plump flesh of your thigh, hips rolling against yours, “Beg.”

“Please, please let me cum, Hobi.”

“Good girl.” Hoseok hips snap, wild and chasing his own release. Nimble fingers with jagged movements against your clit, your moans raise in pitch and it had Hoseok’s hips stuttering.

“Fuck baby, c’mon.” Hoseok’s eyes roll back, he rests his forehead against yours, “Cum for me, pl-please, baby.”

He kisses you, when you gasp his name and shudder - all tongue and teeth and a sloppy mess, pace slowing to measured thrusts, and then he was coming. His hips stutter as he mutters a string of curses that blends into your name. There’s stars behind his eyelids and he can’t hear past the rushing of the blood in his ears.

Your fingers are running through his hair when Hoseok finally feels like he’s not melting into a boneless puddle against you. He presses kisses to your skin, wherever he could reach, with a lazy smile.

“Hobi,” You grunt, though there’s humor in your tone as you pat his side, “Please get off me I can’t breathe.”

Hoseok sighs, long and drawn out, “But I like it here.”

“I will bite you.” It’s a threat, and a promise, and Hoseok takes it seriously. Carefully, he raises up and off you, sitting near the foot of the bed.

He rubs at your calf with a light touch, “Wanna change the sheets now or after a quick rinse?”

“After,” you mutter, “I don’t even think I can move right now.”

Chuckling, Hoseok helps you sit up, crowding your space once more to place a kiss against your nose.

When all is said and done, you’re both laying in bed again, on fresh, cool sheets. Hoseok has his arm around you, and you’re both sleepy enough to drift away in the comfort that you’d both created.

"I love you.”

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#persphonesorchid #Fic: Constellations Of You #Jung Hoseok #Jhope #jhs #jung hoseok x reader #jhope x reader #jung hoseok fluff #jung hoseok smut #bts #bts x reader #bts fanfiction #hobi #hobi x reader #jhs x reader #bts fic recs #bts hoseok #hoseok x reader #bts x you

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